


Steel Swallow, Copper Phoenix

by Siana



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Emperor!Akashi, Flower Language, Historical Fantasy, M/M, badass!Kuroko, beware the flashbacks, it's a substantial part of the plot, so come ask me if you have doubts, take heed of the non-con warning, there's not much more I can say without spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 147,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siana/pseuds/Siana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A political marriage with the firstborn son of the Teikou clan is what is supposed to make the rebellious family finally fall in line. But what Akashi Seijuro, 24th Emperor of the Rakuzan line, gets with Kuroko Tetsuya is not at all what he bargained for. It might be just what he needs though.<br/>In the midst of lies and intrigues, will these two find their way to each other, or will the tragedies of the past separate them forever?</p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <br/>
    <em>It reminds Tetsuya that, if tradition holds true, he will never see the outside world again. A prisoner or a Queen, the difference is often negligible.</em>
    <br/>
  </p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue ~ The Sound of May Bells

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of warning ahead. This will contain dubious and non-con at some point, so if that is not your cup of tea, you should better not pick this up.  
> Secondly, while I originally wanted to set this in a close approximation of either Japanese or Chinese history, I found that neither was fit for what I have planned for this story. So I opted for a setting that is a very liberal blend of Chinese, Japanese and European history and culture. I took a lot of artistic license there. I did try to keep continuity, so it shouldn't be too bad.  
> Lastly, this won't have regular updates, as I do have a substantial amount written already, but a lot of that are bits and pieces that haven't been connected to the main storyline yet. Also I find it rather hard to find the right narrative tone for this one, so writing and subsequential editing go very slow.  
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy this.

When he had woken up this morning Kuroko Tetsuya had been little more than the exiled son of a Lord; this night will see him as consort and Queen to the most powerful man on the continent. Tetsuya supposes that’s not an everyday occurrence, which does remarkably little to lift his spirits. This isn’t a place he wants to be; it’s just another iteration of the prison of his birthright.

A prison he is certain to break out off eventually. Everything is still covered by his calculations after all.

He won’t meet the Emperor and future husband before the actual ceremony, but that’s alright as well. It’s not a marriage that’s supposed to last. One way or another.

Tetsuya allows himself a sigh. It’s an oddly loud sound in the confined silence of his palanquin. The outside world is muted, although all that separates them is a thin strip of cloth.

And a line of palace guards, who allow looks at the gently swaying palanquin, but no more. He’s a treasure for the Emperor’s eyes alone.

Every Emperor needs a Queen, not for blood, not for power, but merely for a noble name. It’s the Queen that cements succession. As long as the Emperor is the father, any child can become heir when the adoptive mother is of noble blood.

And somewhere along the way, people stopped caring if the ‘mother’ was male or female.

It allows his role in this, but Tetsuya has left little more than contempt for the twisted games of noble boredom and ambition that led to the deadlocked rule system antiquated values and morales they’re stuck in now. Schemes and Secrets wrapped in tradition.

Tetsuya is tired, despite having barely moved for most of the day. But he had to rise early, getting prepared for a marriage he doesn’t want. Even before the actual ceremony, there are countless traditions to be honored, rituals to be followed. He’s dressed in white silk, wide sleeved and flowing, like the folds of a rose, some long lost metaphor eternalized in the stones of tradition.

Tetsuya hates the word to his bones.

Tradition is the material his shackles are forged from; tradition is the reason he doesn’t remember his mother’s face.

His hair is too short for the traditional hair style, so he’s left with one single hairpin adorned with a white lily for purity. Flower symbolism is a central theme of the ceremonies, every flower has its own meaning and white lilies are the go to symbol for virginal brides.

Not that the actual state of his virginity matters.

The robe is heavy, layers and layers of silk and Tetsuya is astonished how a fabric so light can pile up such a mass of uncomfortable weight. But he’s not supposed to move much anyway, in his slowly swaying palanquin.

The air is filled with the chimes of bells and as they progress Tetsuya can hear the constant thrum of drums. Even in his enclosed space, the air is heavy with incense and it wakes memories, Tetsuya has spent years to bury. But the emotions have dulled over the years. Still, it’s disheartening and Tetsuya doesn’t wish for the first time that the day was already over.

It’s warm and stuffy inside, and Tetsuya wants nothing more than to pull off his robes. All he has is a fan, his family’s crest on brittle silk paper. The seal with its dark colors stands out starkly against the rest of his white getup. As loath as the crest is to him, with all it represents, the fan does remind him of the gentler parts of his home.

A breeze picks up but fails to do more than to rustle the curtains securely tied in place. It reminds Tetsuya that, if tradition holds true, he will never see the outside world again. A prisoner or a Queen, the difference is often negligible.

And Tetsuya knows that he is little more than the price for silence.

The bells and drums are joined by other instruments now, zithers and cymbals and the high wailing of an erhu. The sounds are supposed to inspire awe, but all they do is induce a headache. The incense isn’t helping either and Tetsuya is glad, for a change, for the long sleeve of his robe. He covers his mouth and closes his eyes, deep breaths against faintly peach scented silk fabric.

It helps at least a little.

The character of the ambient sounds changes, from muffled cheers and music to a form of muted silence that hints at a closed off space; they must have reached the palace walls. Tetsuya doesn’t get to see the transition that will inexorably separate him from his old life.

There are voices now, distinct and closer than the murmur of the crowds. The palanquin sways to a halt before it’s lowered to the ground. They’ve reached their destination, somewhere inside the palace, from where he is to take the first steps on his new path.

The doors to the palanquin are pulled open and Tetsuya finds himself face to face with a man he doesn’t know. Not that he expected anything different. The man takes longer than he should to focus his attention on Tetsuya and when he does; his eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. He recovers quick enough though and offers his hand for Tetsuya to disembark. He wears white gloves and he makes a point not to meet Tetsuya’s eyes.

He’s unremarkable enough, so Tetsuya puts his attention elsewhere.

The world that greets him is a buzzing beehive in the disguise of a human dwelling. They’re in a large room with high ceilings and overdone decorations. The Imperial palace is an old building, full of history and filled with the tastes of a hundred different men. Tetsuya has never seen it before, but it’s easy to believe now. This room does hold testimony to a time long past, when gold was cheap and abundant in the Empire’s mines. Everything is lavishly decorated in a redundant display of wealth. It doesn’t help at all with his headache.

“Welcome Kuroko-dono.” He’s greeted by a different man, the other one has disappeared somewhere in the endless reflections of light on polished gold. The man he’s facing now is smiling, no he’s actually _grinning_ at him, and then he bows, flourished and with little finesse to the smaller distinctions of rank. His eyes are as golden as his hair and he seems to suffer from no small amount of over enthusiasm.

He wears the dark gray uniform with burgundy trimmings that identify him as one of the Emperor’s personal guards. A prestigious and powerful title, given only to those who possess the absolute trust of the Emperor. They do after all directly represent the Emperor’s will.

Tetsuya nods in greeting, the motion perfectly measured. It’s difficult to maneuver through all the rules and regulations defining ranks and appropriate responses but Tetsuya has spent a very long time observing, and learning. Either way, the man doesn’t look as though he even notices.

He flashes another grin, amiable and so overly friendly it’s almost intimate. Tetsuya absently notes the single silver earring on his left ear. His grin slowly slips from his face when Tetsuya gives no response and finally he seems to catch on.

“My name is Kise Ryouta. I am pleased to meet you.” He says, and most of the flourish has left him. He almost seems embarrassed. “Sorry about that.” He grins again, but this time it’s on the side of boyishly awkward and Tetsuya notes down the reaction for later use. So far the man seems to have no mal intentions whatsoever and Tetsuya sure hopes it’s not an elaborate façade. But Kise’s face is so honest in his dejection and awkward embarrassment; it’s hard not to believe him.

His face suddenly falls even more and he hastily bows. “I mean, my humblest apologies Kuroko-dono.” He falters and his resemblance to a lost puppy almost makes Tetsuya take pity on him. But this is a strange place to him, and he’s currently more occupied with getting a bearing on it than providing comfort. Even with Kise pulling most of the attention, there is still so much going on in this room.

“Kise.” A voice chides and Kise tenses at the sound of it.

“Please excuse my rude colleague, your highness. “ The man that approaches them makes it sound like he’s reading the lines from a textbook, all very formal little sincerity. His bow is curt, precisely executed as though he measured it. He’s trimmed primly, hair an odd shade of green and his eyes are obscured by a pair of spectacles. The spectacles alone are worth a fortune, the art of cutting lenses is an expensive one, but that is all shadowed by the tasteless cat figurine in his hands. The fingers of his left hand are bandaged. He wears a similar uniform than Kise, only slightly different in cut and style. But it’s the colors that determine rank, dark gray and burgundy and a golden chrysanthemum emblazoned on the front.

Tetsuya doesn’t miss the minute flick of disapproval when the newcomer spots the fan in his hands.

“My name is Midorima Shintarou, if you would please follow me.” He bows again and turns, without waiting for a reply. He manages to come off as much ruder than Kise, despite sticking tightly to protocol.

“He’s always like that, don’t mind him.” Kise says with another easygoing smile, his earlier blunder obviously forgotten and Tetsuya decides to just take it at face value. He has other worries right now. Still, he can’t forget what Aida had said to him, before their departure. So he tries a smile, as unfamiliar as it feels on his face, it does light up Kise to the point of glowing.

He needs all the allies he can get. Even if it’s only good will.

Midorima has reached a door at the far end and is now waiting impatiently for Kise and Tetsuya to follow. The many servants buzzing around in the room bow when he passes, but other than that they are too fixed on their tasks. Preparations for the upcoming celebration as it seems, and Tetsuya wonders if he should take offense that he was received amidst their presence. For the outside world he is an untouchable god, within these walls he’s an unwanted element.

That’s alright, he thinks. It bears no relevance to his plans.

Tetsuya reaches the door and hesitates.

It is time.

Tetsuya tightens the hold on the fan in his hands, the last anchor to the life he’s left behind.

Somewhere in another place and time, May bells chime their sweet and poisonous song.


	2. A Sea of Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Akashi Seijuro!

Akashi Seijuro, twenty-fourth Emperor of the Rakuzan line watches the arrival of his bride from a hidden balcony. He wants to get his own impression of the man who is about to be his consort.

Kuroko Tetsuya isn’t much for the eye. Drowned in too much white he almost seems to disappear, but what he lacks in appearance, he makes up for in presence - or rather, lack thereof. It’s not just the overbearing outfit, it’s the man himself. But that’s about the only interesting thing about him, and limited in its noteworthiness, as he isn’t about to enter Seijuro’s services as a spy.

Physically Kuroko is no match for him. They’re similar in height, but where Seijuro has a lean yet firm built, Kuroko is thin to the point of scrawny. Most of his mass seems to come from his gown and Seijuro has the impression he’s about to be crushed by its weight.

An end he would very much appreciate right now.

He is the Emperor, his word is absolute, but even he must bow to the ancient rules of tradition. And tradition dictates he take a wife before his 25th birthday, or else he forfeits his right to the throne. It’s still two years until then, but this proposal didn’t come without reason. And, Seijuro can’t deny the use Tetsuya might ultimately have for him.

The Teikou clan is a prestigious family, rich and powerful, but their bond to the Empire is loose. Their lands have never been conquered and their only ties to the Empire lie in the bonds of ancient marriages. Their blood is intermingled with the Rakuzan line, but their loyalties have never been unambiguous. It wouldn’t be the first Teikou child offered to buy some measure of good will.

And it certainly is not the first child that is sacrificed for their family’s ambition.

Seijuro he has a palace full of concubines, sons and daughters offered to him in the hopes of winning his favor, in the hopes he’d accept their hands in marriage. He didn’t, and now their lives are spent behind the rose infested walls of the forbidden palace.

But, Seijuro thinks, as he watches the subtle shift of Kuroko’s presence, this man might be of more use to him than originally expected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The preparations are complete Aka-chin.” Atsushi appears in the doorframe, a plate of sweet manjus in hands, half of which have already been eaten. For once Seijuro doesn’t reprimand him.

Seijuro nods, but Atsushi remains in his doorframe. He doesn’t say anything, but Seijuro knows just as well what he’s trying to tell him. The robes he’s supposed to wear for his wedding lie untouched on his bed and so far Seijuro has made little attempt to put it on. He’s sent the menservants away, he tolerates them on the best of his days but with the excitement of a wedding at hand, he can’t stand their presence.

None of this, he owes a justification for to Atsushi, though. Seijuro turns his attention to the documents spread out on the table.

“Mido-chin will have a fit.” Atsushi comments eventually.

“Let him have it.” Seijuro says. It is in his power to stop this wedding; it would serve his subjects well to remember that. Atsushi just gives him a very eloquent look, but saves his breath for his food.

“Don’t worry Atsushi.” Seijuro says with a sardonic smile. He leaves it at that and Atsushi accepts it with a casual shrug. If Seijuro says not to worry, there is no reason to worry. As simple as that. That’s probably why Shintarou sent Atsushi ahead, anyone else would have only frayed his nerves.

A knock on the door alerts them to Shintarou’s presence. He is wearing an impressive scowl that only deepens he sees the untouched wedding garment on Seijuro’s bed. “Five minutes, Akashi.” He informs him and Seijuro sighs. “Don’t touch anything with those hands.” He reprimands Atsushi in the same breath. He might have a habit of nagging, but Shintarou has an unmatched eye for detail. A quality that Seijuro values quite a lot, which is about the main reason he tolerates some of Shintarou’s quirkier personality traits.

Shintarou ascertains with a glance if Seijuro is going to adhere to his words and then, obviously satisfied, turns around to leave.

“Don’t worry Aka-chin.” Atsushi says, once he’s gone. “I’ll crush anyone in your way.” He says it almost lightheartedly, but Seijuro knows he’s perfectly serious.

“I know.” He says with a smile and Atsushi takes that as his cue to leave him alone. His outfit is not a complicated one, not compared to that of his bride, and with the help of his menservants, it takes less than the allocated five minutes to put it on. It comes closer to a suit than a robe, heavy red brocade, adorned with the image of a dragon stitched in golden thread. It’s stiff and uncomfortable, but so is this whole ordeal.

His menservants work in complete silence, their tongues have been removed when they entered his service. It’s an archaic custom, but for once one that Akashi agrees with. It does pay to have certain people’s silence ensured.

Shintarou reappears a moment later, now in ceremonial uniform, fingers no longer wrapped up in protective bandages. He is bleeding with tension, but Seijuro knows him for one whose true abilities only ever come up under pressure.

The rest of his personal guard is waiting outside of his room, all in their ceremonial uniforms, with varying states of enthusiasm.

“Ryouta. Shintarou. Daiki. Atsushi.” Seijuro takes a moment to look at each of them. His trust in them is absolute; they have proven both their worth and capability. They’re the men closest to him, probably the only people he can and does call friends. They’re not jus his personal guards, but also function as advisors to the throne. In his absence their word is his. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Right, there’s a new move I want to try out.” Daiki says, not one to ever mince his words or hide his true opinion.

“Try not to break the practice dummies this time.” Shintarou says with a sigh. He’s abandoned his lucky item for the day, and he’s less than happy about the fact.

“Don’t worry, I’ll use Kise.”

“What? Why Aominecchi? Aren’t we friends?” Ryouta skips over to Daiki and latches onto his arm. Daiki swats at him, annoyed, but he doesn’t put true effort into shaking Ryouta off.

The familiarity of their banter inadvertently relaxes Seijuro.

In the grand scheme of things, Kuroko Tetsuya is inconsequential. He is just another whore that is sold for his favor, just another pawn to be sacrificed for ambition.

And as such, Seijuro intends to use him until his worth has run its course.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air is incense-heavy, enough to feel suffocating, even without the heavy memories to go with it. Tetsuya has gone through a ritual washing and two wardrobe changes. Swallows chase each others tails now, on the otherwise perfectly unblemished white of his robes. And the main part hasn’t even started.

Midorima had left shortly after guiding him to the bathhouse, but Kise had stayed with him until shortly before the ceremony. Now he’s under the care of three servants dressed in pigeon blue and stoic silence and it’s a huge relief compared to Kise’s endless attempts at cheering him up. Tetsuya does appreciate it, but his energy is simply depleted. At least the blue of their robes offers a welcoming reprieve from the overbearing presence of Imperial red - a color that still reminds him of death.

The room is small, thankfully; ancient wood dyed an even more ancient red, and in the middle thrones the shrine that pays homage to the Rakuzan family gods. A few monks and one fat bald priest are busy wafting incense around and Tetsuya makes use of his overlong sleeve once again. One of his servants/guards makes a chirping sound, clearly displeased by Tetsuya’s lack of decorum, but he soundly ignores him.

They are waiting in a hidden alcove to the side, granting him a full view of the shrine’s insides, without being seen himself. He appreciates the position for the chance to observe everything, not that there is much to observe right now.

Suddenly Tetsuya misses Kise’s endless chatter. If nothing else, it gave him something to focus on. It was hard to get a read on Kise. He’s mostly sure that his amiability was genuine. Kise doesn’t seem like he has enough presence of mind to pull off an elaborate ploy like that. But Tetsuya could have read him wrong and there was a decided hint of forcedness to his behavior. As though he was trying too hard and too much all at once.

Tetsuya can’t blame him. He has no illusions about being welcome here. Kise might have felt compelled to fake his friendliness, but that was most likely owed by his naturally sociable personality. Akashi Seijuro will likely not show the same courtesy.

He has no reason to belief Akashi Seijuro actually wants him here, if anything he’s heard about him holds true. But that just means their desire for his presence in this palace equals up. But that’s not entirely true. Tetsuya doesn’t want to be here, but what he _wants_ requires him to be here.

He draws strength from that thought.

The priest is finished with the purification. He gives one of his monks a sign and he makes his way out of the door. The ceremony will begin soon _._ Tetsuya braces himself.

His robes are no longer silk but multilayered brocade, a deep crimson color and he’s sweating furiously underneath. He wears a heavy headpiece made from lacquered wood and adorned with overdone bird imagery. The attached pearl strings get into his eyes constantly and Tetsuya is a hairbreadth away of just tearing them off.

People file into the room now, a procession of ministers and dignitaries, in order of their rank. Tetsuya’s eyes trail over the insignias that signify their position. Hours of studying supplying him with names and histories. He sorts them into foes and possible allies more by habit than necessity. In truth, none of them could ever be his ally. He wouldn’t be here if they did.

Only when they all have taken their places, does Akashi finally appear. He’s surrounded by four men, two of which Tetsuya has already met. They’re all members of Akashi Seijuro’s personal guard, the Imperial guard as it is known officially, men as notorious as the Emperor himself. And each of them sticks out in the midst of a room full of eccentric palace officials, despite their uniform dress.

There is Kise, almost otherworldly in his beauty, a detail that has led many a foe into their deaths. Next to him is Midorima, a shrewd and eccentric marksman, who’s rumored to have never ever missed a shot in his entire life. Behind Midorima, flanking Akashi’s back, is a dark skinned man with short cropped hair, tinted an odd blue color - if Tetsuya guesses correctly that is Aomine Daiki, first sword of the realm and an even deadlier swordsman than Kise. Lastly, there is a giant of a man, shadowing even over the other guards, long purple hair half obscuring his face. He’s standing with a bit of a slump, looking for all the world as though he is about to fall asleep on his feet, but Tetsuya remembers the stories they tell about Murasakibara Atsushi, personal bodyguard to Akashi Seijuro and the legions of men that fell to his hammer.

He remembers all of the stories about these men; young as they are, they already left their mark on history. And weren’t it for the blood that drenches his own history, Tetsuya would quiver in fear in the shadows of these _miracles_.

But despite all of their overwhelming presence, it is Akashi who commands the center of attention. He’s smaller than each of them, but his overwhelming presence and aura doesn’t leave a doubt who truly is in charge. In his wake, even the legendary Imperial guard seems to shrink into the shadows.

Akashi is clad in red, gold-trimmed brocade, but unlike Tetsuya the heavy fabric doesn’t swallow him up. It enhances his already imposing natural presence. His hair is a blazing scarlet red, blending smoothly with the surrounding, so that it looks as though his fair is crested by a crown of flames. Dragons stitched in gold thread wind their way up Akashi’s robe, spewing flames up his shoulders.

Red. Red is everywhere, swallowing the world like an indomitable sea of blood.

Tetsuya wants to close his eyes against it, but that’ll bring memories back to the surface he has spent too many years to bury. So he braves the sight of red, face schooled into impassiveness, as he watches Akashi take his position in front of the shrine.

He wonders if red will ever be something else than the color of death to him.

And as he watches the Imperial guard move around Akashi, perfectly in sync, he can’t help but remember what his brother so gleefully told him, not so long ago. _The Emperor and his guards are one entity. You won't just be married to Akashi; you will belong to all of them._

He has no doubt now, that his brother was right. Tetsuya slides a finger along the hard line of his folded fan. Through some miracle he was allowed to keep it. The crest painted intricately on the silk paper is older than the Rakuzan line. A silver-grey sea serpent entwined in eternal fight with his dark-grey counterpart. Shadow and light, locked in eternity.

The words written underneath the dragons are old in their scripture and even older in their meaning. It’s the creed of the Teikou family.

_We are darkness. We are light._

Tetsuya can’t remember a time when his family has ever been something else than a lot of darkness and lot less light. His hand tightens around the fan involuntarily.

He will see this to its end. Whatever end that may be.

Akashi doesn’t kneel when he pays respect to the family gods. Neither do his guards. It’s a short and quiet affair, more ceremonial than actually spiritual. The Emperor doesn’t believe in the fickle will of gods.

The priest speaks a blessing, voice barely rising above the constant thrum of the monk’s chanting, and then, finally, the time has come.

One of his servant/guards puts the hooded veil into place that he has been spared until now. It obscures most of his sight, so Tetsuya has to more feel his way forward. Bells start chiming and somewhere a gentle drum beat picks up.

Death or union, wherever the gods are involved, they all dance to the same tune.

Tetsuya follows the rhythm of the drums as he steps forward. He casts his eyes downward, hands clasped in front of him, fan hidden away in one of his too big sleeves. He falls to his knees in front of the shrine, the members of the Imperial guard parting to make way from him. He folds his hand in front of him; his fan has long since been tugged into the folds of his sleeve. Tetsuya bows his head as he pays his respect to the gods of the family that is about to welcome him.

Tetsuya doesn’t pray. He has been brought up to serve Gods that no shrine of human making could ever hold and prayers that are written in shades of red. Their cruelty has made him wary of the comfort found in the shadow of a God.

“Rise, Kuroko Tetsuya of the Teikou.” The priest says gravely and Tetsuya follows suit. On the way up he pushes back the hood, revealing his face to the crowd.

He isn’t supposed to, but he looks anyway. Akashi is impressive, even in profile. His eyes are a mismatched red and gold and in the split second that Tetsuya gets to actually look at him, he sees the odd vertical shape of Akashi’s pupils. The sight floors him, upends the world around him, and then Akashi does _something_ ,his eyes seem to flicker and Tetsuya finds the balance stolen from him.

His reaction runs solely on instinct, falling into one of the most basic defense stances and trying to counter whatever it is that Akashi does, but to no avail. Tetsuya still doesn’t know what happened, when he finds himself on his knees at Akashi’s feet.

And between all that, there is the fraction of a moment when he thought he saw surprise in Akashi’s face.

The change of tune of the crowd’s murmuring is the only sign that something out of the ordinary happened. None of the people around him move, and over the soft melody of the music, he can hear Akashi’s equally soft voice.

“Know your place.”

He’s not even raised his voice, and yet the force of command behind these few words leaves Tetsuya reeling. An uneasy feeling settles uncomfortably in his gut.

But if anything, Tetsuya knows how to pretend. He adjusts his position and puts his hands in front of his knees, before he touches his forehead to the ground.

“Forgive me, your majesty.” He lets the barest amount of remorse bleed into his voice, just enough to not make it seem as insincere as it is.

The crowd quiets down and Tetsuya dares to look up. He catches Kise’s eyes more on accident than intent. He can only guess at how the others are looking at him, but in Kise’s eyes he reads an odd mixture of relief and… pride?

He doesn’t have the time to make sense of that now. No one protests or stops him, when he rises slowly back to his feet. He’s still shaken from what Akashi just did, but he refuses to let it show. The thin strip of false security he has brought with him has just been torn to pieces.

Needless to say, he has gravely underestimated Akashi Seijuro.

The ceremony continues, with Tetsuya keeping his head down in perfect demureness. He knows his place alright. He knows it better than Akashi ever could. The thought tastes bitter on his tongue. So even when the priest takes their hands and ties them together, Tetsuya keeps his eyes turned down.

Seijuro’s body heat is almost scorching against his skin.

The priest speaks another blessing, cherry branch in hand as he scatters the pink petals over them like rain. Or like blood stained flakes of snow. Tetsuya wonders what it says about the future that awaits him, if this is how it starts.

And he wonders, not for the first time, if he has made a mistake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seijuro isn’t loath to admit that Kuroko Tetsuya has surprised him. As the oldest son he is expected to have gone through basic warrior training, but what Seijuro has just seen was way more than standard training should be able to offer.

Kuroko read his move and even attempted to counteract it. It is not for his lack of skill that he failed, but for Seijuro’s absolute superiority. Still, Seijuro is willing to forgive his slight for that display of almost grace. If only, for that it may have opened up a possibility Kuroko might be of worth to him after all.

He might have underestimated his new bride.

It might serve to investigate the rumors that float around the Teikou clan after all.

The ceremony finally nears its end. The priest hands him a cup with sacred rice wine. Seijuro takes a sip, the taste of it rich and thick on his tongue. The wine is special; its potency can intoxicate only after a few mouthfuls.

Seijuro offers the cup to Kuroko who takes it, eyes still cast downwards. The sight of Kuroko’s continued submission should please him, but he has little reason to belief it is sincere. And strangely enough, what does annoy him is not the insincerity, but that Kuroko bothers to put up a front to begin with.

Kuroko takes a sip from the cup and Seijuro’s eyes are drawn involuntarily to the slight flutter of his eye lashes, when the potent wine hits his palate. Kuroko Tetsuya is not attractive in that universally accepted way that Ryouta is, and he doesn’t have the natural rough charm of people like Daiki, nor the refined beauty that Shintarou possesses. It might be different if he were a woman. But despite his obvious plainness, there is something about him that compels Seijuro to _look_.

Kuroko hands the cup back to the priest, who pours the remaining contents onto the stone ground. An offering to the gods, that they may bestow their blessings on the new couple. A few drops of the wine spill on the hem of Kuroko’s, no Tetsuya’s robes, staining the otherwise immaculate white.

The ceremony is complete and they are officially wed now.

Tetsuya’s face is a smooth mask, not even his eyes give away what he is thinking. Even amidst the overbearing heat of the red surrounding them, he seems like he is chipped from ice. Even his skin is cold. All the time their hands have been tied together, none of Seijuro’s body heat seemed to have seeped into Tetsuya’s skin. Maybe there is beauty after all in the way he deflects his surroundings.

Seijuro finally turns to face his court and subordinates. Tetsuya follows his movement like a shadow.

The people in the crowd fall to their knees. Seijuro takes note of the few who take their time, the only act of defiance many of them dare. Seijuro waits until his guards have taken up their position, before he starts his way down the way to the entrance of the shrine chamber.

People left and right murmur their blessings and cheers, heads bowed as they pass.

The rhythm of the music changes as they pass through the chamber doors and into the palace corridors. Servants and guests alike have gathered to celebrate the newlywed couple. The whole city will be one huge celebration tonight, paid from the Imperial treasury. A costly gift, but one that will serve to keep the people appeased.

Tetsuya is silent during their procession through the palace corridors. He keeps his eyes front and posture regal, the perfect picture of an untouchable Queen.

“Do as you’re told and your time here will be not unpleasant.” Seijuro says when they’ve finally left the main part of the palace and entered the quieter area, where the private chambers of the Imperial family are located.

Tetsuya’s nod is almost imperceptible.

Good, Seijuro would hate having to punish Tetsuya for any more disobedience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The banquet hall is decked banners in red and gold, bearing the Rakuzan family crest. Someone even thought of putting up a banner bearing the Teikou crest, but the single speck of blue seems lost in the midst of red. There are flowers too, Chrysanthemum for Seijuro and lilies for Tetsuya.

Seijuro has changed into a more comfortable, yet still formal robe, cut similar to the one he wears when he holds court. Tetsuya is dressed in the traditional formal kimono of the Imperial wife, a deep crimson red, patterned with Camellias. The color doesn’t suit him at all.

Many guests have arrived for this special occasion. They came from all corners of the country, some even came from the continent in the West. Seijuro’s entire court is present, each official and dignitary dressed up in an attempt to outdo their peers. Even his mistresses are here, albeit hidden in a curtained off alcove at the side of the hall.

One family however, is suspiciously absent.

The family that sold off their oldest son, like he’s a whore who’s only worth lies in buying favors. But then again, maybe that is precisely the reason why they didn’t show up.

Although it does draw suspicion. Allegedly the Teikou offered him Tetsuya to tighten the bonds between their families, yet not even a representative of the Teikou can be seen. Shintarou told him that even the men who accompanied Tetsuya to the capital for the formal sendoff, were men from a family of retainers.

He can only guess what Tetsuya thinks about that, but for all he knows, he might be a part of the ploy.

They are waiting in a small room adjacent to the banquet hall until the guests have been seated. Only then will they emerge and take their places at table at the end of the hall.

Unlike him, his guards haven’t changed out of their uniforms. They are accompanied by four officers of the palace guard, who will help overlooking the procedures. The Rakuzan line has plenty of enemies, and an event of this scale attracts a lot of opportunities.

The guests will offer presents to the newly betrothed couple during the course of the meals, which makes the whole thing a long and tedious affair.

“Mibuchi and Nebuya will be in charge of receiving the gifts on Akashi’s behalf.” Shintarou explains. “Aomine will watch Akashi; Kise you are going to cover Kuroko, while Murasakibara will be in charge of the food.” He gives him a pointed look. “I hope I don’t need to tell you that that doesn’t mean you get to stuff your face. It is essential you make sure to screen the food thoroughly.”

Shintarou adjusts his spectacles, making an effort to rein in his agitation. “I will stay in the background and have an eye on the room. Hayama and Mayuzumi will mingle with the crowd.”

“Oi, Midorima, do you think this all is necessary?” Daiki sticks his pinky into his ear, as usual unheeding of his surroundings.

Shintarou gives him a hard glare “No, but I am not willing to take that risk.” He turns to open a wooden box on the table behind him. “These are ceremonial, but I trust you can put them to use if need be.” He hands out swords with artfully crafted sheaths that show of the history of the Rakuzan. They would be of little use on a real battlefield, but Seijuro has complete trust in the capability of his guards.

“Eh, Mido-chin, this is too small for me.” Atsushi frowns at his. It’s not a small sword by any means, but in his hands it has more similarity with a dagger than a sword. “I can’t use this.”

“Unfortunately we don’t possess such a thing as a ceremonial hammer.” Shintarou says primly. “I am not happy with this choice of weapon either, if it is any consolation to you.”

“I don’t see a problem.” Kotarou says cheerfully. Eikichi next to him tests the sword’s merit as a club.

“They’re a bit heavy.” Ryouta observes, while he tests the balance of his.

“Why can’t we use our real weapons?” Daiki looks at his as though it has personally slighted him.

“It would certainly be prudent to at least arm the guards properly.” Chihiro speaks up quietly.

“It certainly would be.” Shintarou says with no little amount of annoyance. “Unfortunately for us though, the sixth Emperor Akashi saw it befit to decree a law that prohibited any and all weapons on days of Imperial celebration. Thankfully the ninth Emperor had more sense and changed the law to exclude ceremonial weapons.”

“At least the law included all attendees.” Reo says with a shrug. “Although the definition of ‘ceremonial’ has stretched over time.” He flicks a finger against the sheathed blade of his sword, which is sharp to the point of deadly.

“I don’t know what the fuss about blades is anyway.” Eikichi says and stuffs his sword into his belt. Atsushi hums in approval but is otherwise busy retrieving a snack from his pockets.

“Anyway, I don’t see the point.” Ryouta runs a hand through his hair. “Nothing is going to happen.” He looks at Seijuro.

“You are right Ryouta.” Seijuro finally breaks his silence. The ongoing banter falls silent immediately as everyone turns to him. “I guarantee nothing will happen.”

Shintarou looks as if he wants to say something, but one look from Seijuro silences him.

It is that moment that Momoi Satsuki, the Chief lady-in-waiting _and_ steward of his court, enters the room to inform them that the preparations are complete.

“Good, I’m starving.” Daiki grins, garnering a very annoyed frown from Satsuki.

“Dai-chan, you know you are not supposed to eat while the celebration is going on. You have a job to do. _Please don’t tell me you forgot already.”_

“Of course I know.” Daiki tries to placate a very frustrated Satsuki. “I just meant, the sooner we start, the sooner I get to eat, okay?”

Satsuki obviously doesn’t believe him, but lets it go either way.

“Don’t worry Sei-chan.” Reo pulls something out of his uniform, while he leans in to whisper conspiratorially. “I got them some provisions, so Atsushi won’t start eating the guests.” He says the last part loud enough so that everyone in the room can hear him.

Daiki’s face lights up, as does Ryouta’s. Shintarou just rolls his eyes.

Atsushi blinks as though he’s just woken up. “Eh, I’d much rather eat Kuro-chin. He looks sweet.”

“Please don’t eat me.” Tetsuya says, startling a yelp of at least half the people present. Satsuki almost jumps into Daiki’s arms in shock. Seijuro notes the reactions with interest.

“Weren’t you just over there a second ago?” Ryouta asks, eyes wide and disbelieving.

Tetsuya’s eyes flicker to Seijuro for the fraction of a second. “No, I was here the whole time.”

Satsuki lets out a high pitched noise that Seijuro belatedly identifies as cooing.

“You must be Kuroko Tetsuya, yes?” She lets go of Daiki’s arm and skips over to grab Tetsuya’s hand. “You look even better than I imagined.”

“Satsuki.” Daiki says, voice ostensibly annoyed, but there is a note of warning underneath. Satsuki drops Tetsuya’s hand as though she was burned.

“Ah… I’m sorry. Kuroko-sama.” She bows her head and darts her eyes to see if Seijuro takes offense. He doesn’t and she breathes a sigh of relief. “You can come to me if you need anything.” She reassures him, and Tetsuya nods.

“Thank you.” He says and it sounds sincere.

Atsushi, in the meantime has take it upon him to seize Tetsuya up from head to toe. “Can I really not eat you?” He asks. He leans forward slightly, towering over Tetsuya, despite his slouch.

“Don’t eat Kuroko, he’ll mess up your stomach.” Daiki slaps a hand on Tetsuya’s shoulder, making him stagger with the force of it.

Seijuro takes the opportunity to check with Shintarou how much time they had remaining, until they were expected to make an appearance. The guests are so far still entertained by the served wine and snacks before the actual meal. Shintarou gives him an unhappy look, but Seijuro has something to take care of before he concentrates his entire focus on maneuvering the snake pit that was his court. Now is as good as a time as any.

“Tetsuya.” He says, voice quiet, but the command in it cuts instantly through the conversations. Tetsuya’s look is steadily focused on his mouth and Seijuro’s satisfaction at the well learned lesson is only slightly marred by a tinge of the same annoyance he felt earlier.

“It is perhaps time I introduce you to my personal guards.” Tetsuya gives him the barest of nods to signal he has heard him. Ryouta looks very much like he is about to reintroduce himself a second time, close and personal, while Shintarou just gives him a look that finds its perfect mirror in Chihiro’s expression of _really?_.

“You are already acquainted with Ryouta and Shintarou. But you have yet to meet Aomine Daiki and Murasakibara Atsushi.” He inclines his head in both their directions in way of introduction. Daiki doesn’t look too sold but grins anyway, while Atsushi is too busy with the food he filched from Reo to do much more than hum in acknowledgment.

Seijuro then introduces the others to him, indicating that Satsuki will be in charge of most of his affairs. A prospect that Satsuki seems to be delighted about and Tetsuya acknowledges with the same stoic patience that seems to be his default setting.

“The nature of our relationship will require you spend a lot of time in their presence. Make sure to get along with them.” He’s sure enough that Tetsuya gets the meaning behind his words.

“Please take care of me.” Tetsuya offers a perfectly executed bow, Shintarou couldn’t have done better.

There’s a beat of silence as everyone just looks at Tetsuya. Seijuro can’t say he likes the idea of having Tetsuya for consort any more than before, but at least now he can see his incorporation into their midst not as a total loss.

And then Ryouta surprises him with a reaction he supposes he should have seen coming.

“Sure we will.” Ryouta’s smile is gentle as he ruffles Tetsuya’s hair. “You can count on us.”

There is little else to say. Shintarou quietly reminds him that they delayed long enough and so Seijuro signals the others to follow him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The celebration drags on for seemingly forever, until finally the last plates are cleared and no more guests line up with gifts. Seijuro feels exhausted by the endless string of cheers and lies he had to listen to today, and f he has developed any skill in reading Tetsuya, he feels very much the same.

Reo, Kotarou and Eikichi see the guests off, while Seijuro retires with his guards and Tetsuya to the privacy of his chambers. They pass the chief administrator of the Ministry of the Military, sitting alone at one of the table closer to the wall. He gives them a lazy greeting in passing that borders on insolence.

Daiki snarls and seems very close to sharing his feelings on the matter, but a simple sign from Seijuro stops him. Shouichi tends to test his limits with vigor, but the reason he is still in office simply is that he is the best.

And also one of the few members in his court Seijuro is confident to trust.

Tetsuya has his own chambers, next to Seijuro’s. The members of the Imperial guard have their own smaller chambers in the same tract, as they are expected to be at the Emperor’s beck and call at any hour. Seijuro leads them to the Queen’s chambers, instead of his own.

Chihiro has gone ahead to make sure everything has been prepared and is now waiting for them in front of the doors. Next to him are the three handmaids that Satsuki has ordered to tend to Tetsuya’s every need. If nothing else, Seijuro can be sympathetic to the fact he has been uprooted from the home he grew up in.

And if what he has seen today is any indication, he might be able to make use of Tetsuya after all.

The handmaids bow and welcome their new master, after paying the due respect to him. He bids them to leave them alone for the time being, until Tetsuya is ready to retire. Chihiro returns to his duties, leaving Seijuro alone with Tetsuya.

Seijuro sits down in one of the chairs in Tetsuya’s reception room. The room is meant for receiving guests and is generally considered a more public area. A door at the back of the room leads into the more private living room area, from which one can reach the bedroom. Seijuro has a small library and a study attached to his own living room, while the Queen’s rooms house an expansive walk-in wardrobe.

Shintarou takes his place at Seijuro’s side, while Atsushi stands behind the chair. Daiki and Ryouta have little regards for protocol and proceed to inspect the room. At least they might uncover any hidden dangers like that. If there were any that is. For all the enemies he has, Seijuro is absolutely confident that the chambers of his wife are safe.

Tetsuya stays standing in the middle of the room, posture straight and perfect and infuriatingly submissive. Seijuro is aware that he is somewhat contradicting, but ever since Tetsuya slipped into the role of the submissive bride so easily after his first and only act of defiance, he feels an odd sort of uneasiness. Tetsuya’s subservience is flawless in its execution, but Seijuro can’t help but think it’s a mask that doesn’t fit Tetsuya- Something about the way he moves, even while so obviously appearing submissive, gives off an aura of danger.

If Tetsuya feels unsettled by the continued silence he doesn’t show it. Seijuro decides to cut right to the chase. “I have no intention to sleep with you.”

No reaction from Tetsuya.

However, Ryouta almost drops the book he was looking at. Daiki has slightly more grace and manages to transform his gaping into a more or less convincing yawn.

Despite being a mostly formal and symbolic affair, marriages among noble houses have to be consummated within a week after the ceremony, lest they be voided. His chief administrator of the Ministry of Ceremonies assures him that he is working on a solution to alter the ancient laws, but Seijuro never had much reason to trust the man.

Thankfully he doesn’t have to be the one consummating the marriage.

“You are aware of the laws of tradition?” A nod. “Good. You should be aware that I do not have to consummate our marriage in person. I can transfer the duty to one of my personal guards. I would recommend you prepare yourself accordingly. You may look at me.” The last part wasn’t supposed to come out at all, but now that he’s said it Seijuro is loath to take it back.

Tetsuya’ surprise is marginal and only visible in how he lifts his head too fast to look at him. The odd thing is, Seijuro is certain that Tetsuya’s surprise stems from his last order as opposed to the prior revelation.

“You are my consort now, as such you have permission to directly address me and look at me. You may not, however, look me in the eyes. You may also be conscious of your conduct at any time. I will not tolerate your behavior to cause me disgrace. You are expected to fulfill your duties in court. Satsuki will fill you in on the details. Am I understood?”

Tetsuya gives him a calm and clear “Yes” in reply. For now Seijuro is satisfied.

“You can rest for now. I will send Satsuki tomorrow to show you around and introduce you to your duties.”

With that he leaves Tetsuya alone, guards close on his heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One reason why this is going to be updating slowly is that writing this thing is a clusterfuck of backwards and forwards jump at inopportune times. Meaning, even though I'm already down with chapter 6, I still have to go back frequently and change/adjust things in earlier chapters, because I've come up with new ideas or changes or god knows what else. So there will be some inconsistencies eventually, and maybe some minor plot line will disappear somewhere or will show up out of nowhere, I apologize for that. The main plot won't hopefully be affected though.
> 
> Oh and Merry Christmas/Hanukkah/have a nice holiday and a Happy New Year in advance to all of you.


	3. Swallow in a Golden Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish you all a Happy New Year

Tetsuya can't sleep. It's not the unfamiliar and way too big bed. It's also not the fact he's confined to his rooms with two guards outside his doors and the suffocating feeling of unknown terrain. He's been awake since the early hours of the morning and yet he finds himself wide awake and unable to fall asleep.

The moment his new husband walked out the door, no even before that, his mind had been at work. He needs to adjust his plans. He'd given the rumors surrounding Akashi Seijuro too little credibility. He had thought he would be more like the men from his family, cruel, capricious and with an insatiable thirst for power. He had to adjust his view of the world, Tetsuya reflects somewhat gravely.

His perspective had been too narrow and restricted by what he has known his whole life. Akashi certainly is prideful, but as opposed to Tetsuya's brother, he has every reason to be. To Akashi, it seems, wielding power, no, _power_ comes as naturally as breathing.

His thoughts are interrupted by the innocuous rustling of curtains. Tetsuya is out of bed and poised ready to strike in a heartbeat. The windows are closed; he made sure of that before he went to bed.

"Oi Kuroko, you there?" A familiar voice calls quietly and Tetsuya relaxes. He pushes away from his spot against the wall next to the bulky wardrobe and steps into the pale light of the moon, thrown in through the gaps in the curtain. A man dressed in black and shadows cowers on the windowsill. At Tetsuya's sight he jumps down lightly without making a sound.

"That was quite reckless Kagami-kun."

"Shut up." Kagami grumbles. "I knew you were alone." He takes a moment to look Tetsuya over from head to toe, in obvious search for any signs of harm.

Tetsuya tugs quite self consciously on the frilly silk robe he had been offered for wear by his handmaids. He had meant to protest, really, the garment is entirely impractical and not to mention flimsy, but he couldn't exactly use that argument without raising suspicion. Not to mention Momoi, who had come in to assure herself of his wellbeing, had downright squealed at the image he provided when one of his handmaids held up the garment to him. Tetsuya had then concluded that he had worn worse today.

Apparently that was not the target of Kagami's concern though. "Did you..? I mean did he…?" Kagami rubs a hand on his neck, looking anywhere but Tetsuya. Kagami Taiga, his protector and childhood friend alike, is about the deadliest person he has ever encountered, himself included; he'd never have guessed it in this moment.

Unfortunately for all their mutual acquaintances, he also has the social tact of a brick wall.

"No we didn't." Tetsuya flops down on his bed. Now that he has to be awake, his exhaustion hits him full force. Kagami sighs, letting go of a lot of tension with that one sound. Tetsuya wishes it would be that easy for him too.

"I'll kill him if he lays a hand on you." Kagami ruffles his hair in an affectionate gesture. He makes it sound light, but Tetsuya knows that Kagami wouldn't hesitate a second to go through with the threat. It makes him smile, despite the harsh circumstances. He has missed Kagami.

"You can't Kagami-kun."

The affectionate smile falls from Kagami's lips. "I know." He drops his hand and sits down next to Tetsuya. "I still don't like this."

"I'm always open for alternatives." Tetsuya says, knowing full well that Kagami has to offer none. The look Kagami gives him is accordingly reproachful.

"I thought we agreed on leaving the plans up to you." Kagami says with a dry quirk of his lips. There was that thing with the eight runaway knights and a mission Kagami had been supposed to leave to Izuki and Tetsuya's still not sure how they came out of that one alive. After that one, his mentor was far more eager to send him along Kagami on missions.

"I thought your stint in Hakonoha was much more troublesome."

"Oi, that was-" Kagami's voice is a tick too loud and he immediately cuts himself off. They listen for a few tense moments for any suspicious sounds, but it seems no one heard them.

"Sorry about that. I keep forgetting where we are. "Kagami says with no small amount of sheepishness.

Tetsuya pokes him in the side. "Riko-san would scold you and make you do extra training.

Kagami winces. "But security around here is a joke, seriously. It was way too easy to sneak in." He makes a grimace as he looks through the room. "I could have walked right into the Emperor's bedroom and cut his throat in his sleep."

"He has a very skilled personal guard." Tetsuya says solemnly. Kagami shrugs, making it clear how little he thinks of the matter.

Tetsuya thinks of Murasakibara's enormous built and the force he must be able to put into every strike, thinks of Aomine's cat like grace that is so much like Kagami's, thinks of Kise who held an overweight ceremonial saber with so much practiced ease it sent a shiver down Tetsuya's spine and he thinks of the delicately wrapped up fingers of Midorima who is rumored to hit the stone from a cherry while it falls from the tree. He says none of that aloud though, because it would send Kagami down the wrong tangent.

"They have little reason to be paranoid here." He says instead. Kagami raises his rather impressive eyebrows in obvious disbelief, but doesn't press the issue. Tetsuya has underestimated Akashi once already; he won't make that mistake twice.

"Keep an eye out for traps." Tetsuya says after a moment of consideration. He has no doubt that a lot of Akashi's confidence is built on his own and his men's skills, but he wouldn't put it past him to go the extra mile of caution.

"I didn't spot any on my way here. But I guess it does speak for him that he's still on the throne."

"Most of his enemies are internal." Tetsuya offers. "I suppose he wouldn't last as long though if my brother were to decide he wants to be Emperor." Tetsuya allows himself a very wry smile. The thought of his brother leaves a sour taste in his mouth, especially when he imagines him on the throne, with countless subjects to do his bidding.

Kagami makes a face. "I sure hope he doesn't. This Akashi sounds like a nasty piece of work."

"I have to admit I underestimated him."

"That bad?"

"I'll work around it. The plan will work out."

"I say screw the plan and get out of here. It's no use to risk your life for something like this."

"Something like this?" Tetsuya echoes, voice carefully flat. Kagami visibly deflates and looks away.

"I can't let her die, Kagami-kun." Tetsuya looks up at Kagami, willing him to understand that he can't just let it go. Too much is at stake.

Kagami sighs exaggeratedly and ruffles another hand through Kuroko's hair. "I know." He pulls his hand back and lets it drop back to his side. "I know." He repeats, quieter now.

Silence settles as each hangs after his own thoughts. It's Kagami who breaks it eventually. "I should go. I have to report back or it'll cause suspicion. You…" He trails off, hesitant. "You'll be alright?"

"I will." Kuroko says and puts as much assurance into his words as he can.

"I'll be back in about a week." He pulls a small knife from his pockets and hands it to Tetsuya. "Don't kill anyone." He says sternly, and Tetsuya's lips quirk just ever so slightly.

"I'm sure to call you, should I need collateral assistance." Tetsuya deadpans and Kagami grins.

He pats Tetsuya on the head one more time and walks to the window, where he pauses and scratches his head. "Uh, could you close the window for me please? I kind of had to bust the lock and… ah…" He shrugs and affects a sheepish smile.

Tetsuya just sighs and waves him off. He'll figure out how to explain the broken lock somehow. At least Kagami managed to break in without making any discernible sound, which is somewhat reassuring that his skills haven't suffered too much.

Kagami swings his legs over the windowsill, about to disappear into the night, when Tetsuya's voice holds him back one last time. "Kagami-kun." Tetsuya can't make out Kagami's face in the darkness, but he can make out the shock of his red hair, where it peeks out from under his black headpiece.

"Thank you."

"Any time." Kagami says and a moment later he has merged with the dark of the night.

Tetsuya has no more trouble falling asleep after that.

The next day awaits him with an early rise and a surprise, as he's woken by one of his handmaids. The lack of sleep and unfamiliar surroundings almost have him stab the girl with his knife in reflex, but he manages to stop the attack at the last minute, masking it as an exaggerated yawn. The girls is startled, but pulls herself together soon enough. He uses here short lapse of confusion to slide the dagger under the nightstand.

She bows and informs him that Momoi-sama has to attend to unexpected circumstance and Kise-sama is to take her place instead. Tetsuya turns the news over in his head a few times and comes to the conclusion that it's neither an improvement nor a change for the worse.

The handmaid looks unsure when Tetsuya doesn't make any attempt to get up. In her confusion she seems to inadvertently fall back on the basics and bows again, informing him his bath has been drawn and awaits him. The handmaid- no, Tetsuya forces himself to refer to her by her name. She is a person and had as little choice in her lot as he had.

Ayame holds out a robe for him to slip into. She keeps her eyes downwards and Tetsuya is half inclined to tell her to be at ease around him, but assumes it would be of little use.

The last time he didn't have to take a bath himself is buried in such distant memory, Tetsuya isn't even sure it is even real. It takes a substantial amount of willpower to keep still while Ayame and his other two handmaids fuss over him. It feels strange to be handled with this much care and even stranger to have three women undress him like it's the most normal thing in the world.

He wants to send them away, to keep his private business private, but he knows better. So he lets them touch him with gentle fluttering hands, let them soap him up and rinse him off, before ushering him into the basin of hot water that is receded into the floor.

At first it is silent, except for the sound of splashing water, but after a while, when his natural lack of presence has settled, the handmaids start to idly chatter among themselves. Tetsuya lets the sound wash over him. It's mostly palace gossip, but that's where the most information is hidden.

He's gotten way too little sleep and when one of the handmaids starts massaging soap into his hair he's close to falling asleep. Instead he sets his mind to thinking. Manipulating Akashi is out of the question, which means he has to find a way to gain the man's trust and support. And if he has read the existent distribution of power right, that means he has to make himself useful to Akashi.

Proof his worth as they say.

His worth beyond his status, that is. All Akashi would need to do is consummate their marriage, after which he could lock Tetsuya up somewhere out of sight. The only duty he absolutely has to fulfill is one that doesn't require his immediate presence - or consent. As such, Tetsuya supposes, he can be glad that Akashi has already decided he is to fulfill court duties.

Tetsuya wonders what it will take to convince Akashi of his worth. Just how many of his secrets will he have to give up in order to do that?

They rub sweet smelling oil into his hair and skin afterwards. He gets dressed in yet another high quality silk robe. The color at least, is more suited to flatter him this time, as it is a soft shade of blue. He's left alone with Ayame again, after the other two leave.

"Kuroko-sama." Ayame bows, hands folded in front of her, as she waits for Tetsuya to finish inspecting his new robes. "Kise-sama will be here shortly. Akashi-sama wishes you a good morning and begs you to forgive his absence as he has important matters to attend to. Kise-sama shall keep you company for breakfast in his stead." Her smile is bright and clueless. Tetsuya has to admit he is surprised, he hadn't suspected Akashi one to concern himself with upholding appearances.

"The kitchen has prepared a specialty from your home to surprise you." Ayame tells him, smile bright and so warm it hits Tetsuya right in the gut. Suddenly he is four again, playing at the feet of his mother. He can't remember her face or her smile, but he imagines it must have looked something like this. Gentle. Warm. The thought hurts.

"Kuroko-sama?" Ayame prompts cautiously and Tetsuya pulls himself from his thoughts. It's no use thinking about her now. She's long dead.

"Pardon my asking, but I noticed earlier…" She trails off, unsure if she should continue.

"It's alright." Tetsuya says. He hadn't even realized he had laid a hand on his neck. Considering that, it's not hard to guess what she wants to know.

"Is that…" She swallows, eyes darting here and there, but always end up drawn right back to his neck. "…a scar?" The pale white line on Tetsuya's line is almost invisible against his skin, but she must have spotted it earlier when he was taking a bath.

"It is." Tetsuya says and leaves it at that. Ayame doesn't dare to ask further; instead she bows again and apologizes. He wants to tell her that there's no need to be so formal, but this isn't his home and she is just a piece handed to him by Akashi. There is not even a reason to trust her.

Tetsuya ignores the urge to finger his scar again, a habit he picked up during his childhood and never quite managed to shake. And as he follows Ayame out of his bedroom, Tetsuya can't shake the feeling that something is missing. It's like he said to Kagami the night before, the people here have no reason to be paranoid; _he_ doesn't have a reason to feel paranoid.

After growing up surrounded by people that would have killed him if only they could, it feels almost disorienting to be in a place that means him no harm. Although, he supposes, that is up for debate, as he does have the wedding night to consider. Even taking his importance in strengthening Akashi's reign into account, to the people here he must pose such an insignificant threat. The thought does hold a certain amount of amusement for him.

Not that Tetsuya doesn't intend to change that.

Kise is already waiting for them in the small dining area that is attached to his living room.

Now in the light of day, Tetsuya gets his first good look at his new home. He had his own room back at home, but it was sparse and small, nothing compared to the lavish size and luxury of his new chambers. Although Tetsuya is glad to note, while everything is of the finest and expensive quality, nothing is overdone. Whoever designed the interior had an eye for detail.

Kise's greeting is somewhat less enthusiastic than it was the day before and while he does his best to uphold a string of chatter during breakfast, it seems much more forced in its attempt to be amiable.

Tetsuya, for his part, listens quietly and leaves most of his food untouched. A fact that goes either unnoticed or merely uncommented by Kise and almost causes Ayame to burst into tears, until he reassures her that the food was perfectly to his taste, but he merely can't eat that much.

She is not entirely placated, but Tetsuya has spent too much time among people who misinterpret his eating habits to care that much.

"Kuroko-sama is not expected to pick up court duties right away." Kise explains after Ayame has cleared the table. "Normally the week after the wedding is a time for the bride and groom to acquaintance each other, but…" Kise makes a hand gesture following the trail off his words. He doesn't meet Tetsuya's eyes.

He is not the one at fault, still Tetsuya finds himself saying, "It's alright Kise-kun," before he has the time to think it through.

Kise looks at him in surprise. Tetsuya meets his gaze evenly. He didn't intend to address Kise this informally, but something about Kise puts him at ease in a way he rarely ever was, even at home. There is, he supposes no harm in that. Kise's surprise passes and is replaced by a smile so brilliant it puts any jewel to shame.

"How about I show you around the palace now?" He asks brightly. All the gloom that surrounded him until now has disappeared completely.

"Yes, I would appreciate that." Tetsuya says with more fondness in his voice than originally intended. Something about the unconcerned ease with which he bestows his affection reminds him of Kagami.

Kise's smile is dazzling again.

"If milord would follow me." Kise affects a playful bow, grin big and wide an irresistibly happy grin on his face. The sight is somewhat sobering; as it inevitably comes with the thought how different everything could be if people like Kise were less rare. Somehow he no longer thinks Kise's warmth is anything but insincere.

Kise makes for a very entertaining but somewhat overbearing tour guide. He shows Tetsuya around the palace's living area, shows him the door to Akashi's rooms and then the doors to his and the other guards' rooms. He shows them the quarters of the servants that serve the Imperial family and their affiliates, shows him the small kitchen that serves up their food. They end up staying for a bit of chatter with the cooks and servers. Kise as it seems, is friends with everyone.

"Our rooms are all in the West wing." Kise explains after one of the cooks, a busty lady with a menacing wooden ladle in hand, finally chased them out, although she did let them have a pick of her sweet buns before that. Tetsuya is still nibbling on his, while Kise has already finished. "The East wing houses all the offices and administrations of the court officials. I can show you, but it's quite boring to be honest." Kise grimaces.

"The central part is open for public during the day. Although to get in you need an invitation or an appointment. There's special days every month though. That's when everyone's allowed to come in for an audience."

Kise leads him down a small corner staircase, hidden behind a curtain and then along a carpeted corridor that follows the line of the main corridor that connects the palace tracts. It's rather small and only dimly lit, but unlike the main corridor it has small windows up high in the wall. Kise explains it's a corridor mainly used by servants and ideal to get quickly from one point to another. He even winks when he says it.

"The whole palace is actually undermined by a vast tunnel system, as far as I've heard. But I've never been down there, as it's real dangerous to get lost and stuff."

Tetsuya turns the information over in his head. He doesn't suspect that Kise wanted to do anything more than share something he found interesting with him, but there's still that niggling feeling that Kise plays much dumber than he actually is. But there is no point in thinking about that now.

"There were a lot of internal struggles back then, right after the Empire had been founded. Not everyone was happy to be united under the Rakuzan, and there were still a few independent domains, although they were all conquered eventually." Kise shoots him a somewhat impish smile. "Except for Teikou obviously."

Kise stops to hold a door open for Tetsuya. Tetsuya grew up in shoji-walled rooms, on an estate that was spread far instead of high. He still finds it hard to get used to the ever present stone walls and hinged doors.

"Well, the Emperors back then were all pretty paranoid and crazy." Kise shrugs. "At least that's what Midorimacchi told me. The old Rakuzan family home was supposedly full of traps, and there were lots of rumors saying that foreign visitors would often get lost. This palace was actually built by the sixth Emperor, after the trade routes to the West were reopened. He was totally paranoid apparently. Wanted to spy on everyone so he built the underground network." Kise shakes his head.

"He also put his sons into a death match, deciding who would succeed him. Also almost ended the line, because the last surviving son almost died of a wound from his brother's poisoned dagger." Kise shrugs. "Though doesn't quite beat my great-great-great-great-aunt who almost overthrew our domain's lord's reign, because his horse trampled her cabbage patch during a hunting trip." Kise grins. "Back in the day we were still lowly retainers for the Moriyama domain. I think my aunt worked up some notoriety though, because we were granted our own domain and Lordship two generations later."

"Is that why the marriage laws have been changed?" Tetsuya asks.

"I don't think my aunt's cabbages had anything to do… oh you mean the second Emperor? Yes, his great grandson changed the laws to allow for adoption of any blood related offspring, as long as the adoptive mother's status is of nobility. He had to ascend the throne at age two. Apparently the second Emperor repeated the practice, leaving him with a lot of dead sons and one daughter who'd survived just long enough to birth an heir. She got mixed up in the fightings I think."

"Why didn't he just forbid death matches?" Tetsuya asks.

Kise frowns lightly. "I don't know actually. Maybe he wanted to keep the option open to have a hand in the pick of one's successor. I think there was a case, a few generations later, where the actual heir was total useless, so his father decided to instate one of his bastard children. He was a good Emperor, but only after he run into a bit of a hassle with the firstborn son, who wasn't as thrilled at being stepped over." Kise scratches his head. "The story changes, depending on who you ask, but either the firstborn son tried to kill the bastard son and was executed as punishment, or the bastard son let his brother be executed under false accusations to get rid of him. Either way, after that, the marriage laws were adjusted to what they are today. Any heir has to get married before the age of 25 or he loses his right to the throne, in which case the next suitable son ascends the throne. If the son's a bastard, he gets adopted into the Imperial line, either post mortem or if the father is still alive formally. Ah, well, in Akashicchi's case, he was the only offspring of his father's, but his father's cousin was rumored to have a bastard child somewhere." Kise shrugs. "Not that it matters much now."

 _No, it doesn't matter much anymore._ Tetsuya thinks to himself. The story hits very close to home.

Kise, unheeding of Tetsuya's thoughts, keeps chattering on. "But it had been quite problematic at times. There used to be a lot of bastard children around, and sometimes they tried to get in the way of the heir's marriage. Infighting wasn't uncommon. Akashicchi's grandfather, I think it was him, had to fend off some especially persistent siblings, so he started to shun his mistresses. It caused a lot of bad blood, even more so when he started to pull power away from the ministerial positions. When Akashi Masaomi, Akashicchi's father, ascended the throne, people hoped things would return to normal, but well." He gestures with his hand, encompassing all the meaning he isn't able or willing to put into words.

Tetsuya remembers enough of his history lessons, as disjointed as they were, to connect the dots himself. Akashi Masaomi hadn't only continued his father's work, he'd also married a woman many considered unsuitable to be the Empress.

They've reached the end of the corridor. There are two doors, one looks like all the other doors leading off the corridor, the other is steel-enforced and looks somewhat out of place.

"This door leads into the main corridor that connects to the main hall." Kise points to the wooden door. "This one leads into the throne room. It should be empty now, so we don't have to be quiet."

Kise carefully nudges the door open and pokes his head into the room beyond. Tetsuya can hear muffled voices, after which Kise waves him through after him. Two guards stand posted in front of the small alcove that hides the door. They bow deeply when Tetsuya passes.

The throne room is a large rectangular room, with a raised dais on their end. On the dais is a group of elaborately carved wooden chairs, with one slightly bigger chair in the center. It has gold inlays and the armrests are fashioned into claws, the same as the legs.

The hall is huge, smooth polished marble floor and huge mirrors lining the walls. There's not a single piece of furniture, nothing except the chairs at the head of the hall. It's a room built to intimidate.

"We rarely use this room these days." Kise stops in front of the chairs. "There used to be this really huge throne here. It was supposedly made from pure gold and massive, but it's been removed by Akashicchi's great-great-grandfather. Allegedly to fund his war against Cathay, but that's a rumor that could get you beheaded back then." Kise scratches his head. "Which probably means it was true. Although I do imagine it must have been rather uncomfortable to sit on gold all day.

"Well, anyway, we only ever use this room for when we receive official contingents from other countries." He waves for Tetsuya to follow him down the length of the hall. Their mirror images follow them like ghostly shadows through the mirrors along the walls. It is a disconcerting experience.

"I suppose Akashi-sama doesn't need a room to intimidate." Tetsuya says and he can't quite hide the solemn note in his voice.

Kise actually laughs. "Akaschicci can get a bit intense sometimes, but he means well. Although, sometimes he scares even me. Kurokocchi shouldn't worry about it though; just don't let Akashicchi down and he treats you nicely."

Tetsuya doesn't to point out how flawed that logic is, when applied to him. Instead he decides to address something else that has been bothering him for quite a while now. "Why do you keep adding -cchi to everyone's names?"

Kise affects one of his charming smiles again. "I only do that to people I respect."

Tetsuya allows himself a rare showcase of emotions, by raising his eyebrows at that. He is tempted to ask just how exactly he garnered Kise's respect, but has a rather good inkling as to why that is himself. He doesn't need to hear from Kise that he's merely married into respect through Akashi.

They reach the giant pair of portal doors at the end of the hall. One of the doors stands open halfway, and Tetsuya can hear the faint buzz of palace life through it. Outside is yet another pair of guards, who both bow deeply at their passing. Kise ignores them with practiced ease.

The room is smaller than the hall they just left. Chairs line the wall and a currently unoccupied desk is placed right in the center. This must be where the petitioners wait for their turn to speak in front of the Emperor.

"Normally, to request an audience with the Emperor, the petitioner has to go through a lengthy process; it's quite expensive, not many can afford it. That's why we hold special audition days every month, so that everyone can get a chance. But they are still a lot of people and we can't listen to each of them." Kise shoots him a rueful smile. "But Momoicchi has a good eye for who's got something important and who can wait."

"You are triaging petitioners?" Well, it's still a step up from not receiving anyone at all.

Kise gives him a reassuring smile. "It's better than to pick blindly and miss out on the important cases."

Tetsuya would like to point out that at least it would be fairer, as it won't be up to the Emperor's men to determine what is important, but there would be no point to do so.

"Momoicchi is good at what she does. And we have to cut off somewhere."

 _No you don't_ , Tetsuya thinks. A day once a month seems like a lot, but the Empire isn't small. How many of his subjects have even seen the Emperor with their own eyes? To Tetsuya Akashi had been little more than a faraway and equally inconsequential figure up until just recently. Until his grandfather decided that he was finally putting an end to Tetsuya's presence.

Kise pauses on the other side of the smaller door that leads out of the waiting room and into the main hall. The main hall is where every corridor and staircase connects to, where everything can be reached from by shortest possible distance. The room is smaller than the name would suggest, but it is filled with a constant stream of people, hurrying to and fro on their various duties. Guards are posted here and there to have an eye on the surrounding chaos. A staircase leads up to the upper floors to their right. They ascended that very same staircase the day before on their way to the Imperial chambers.

Despite the obvious hurry everyone is in, each of them finds time to bow to Tetsuya, already accustomed to his presence.

"I could show you the outside now, if you want." Kise offers, but doesn't look too enthused about the prospect. "The gardens are lovely and you might want to see the stables. Ah, wait maybe not the stables, I've heard they haven't yet taken care of the elephant problem."

Tetsuya remembers someone mentioning elephants during the banquet, but he had paid it little mind.

"But maybe you want to see the training grounds?" Kise's words are finished off with the very loud and unmistakable growl of his stomach. Tetsuya thinks he sees Kise flush, but isn't sure with the dim lighting of the doorway.

"Or we could go eat something." Tetsuya offers. He isn't that hungry himself, as he is still drawing from Kaede's sweet bun, but Kise's smile is so grateful and full of relief, he doesn't mind.

They eat their lunch in the small dining hall in the West wing, where the servants of that area take their meals. They run into Murasakibara and Midorima who are eating their lunch together and Kise tells him later, that they usually eat with the servants. Only Akashi likes to take his meals in his room, occasionally inviting his guards to join him. Interestingly enough, no one bothers with protocol in here. Tetsuya gathers some curious glances, but that's it. No bows, no muttered 'Kuroko-samas'. It is surprisingly refreshing.

Kise makes an effort to singlehandedly provide conversation for a table of four people, while Murasakibara doesn't even pretend he is interested in anything else but his food. Tetsuya listens, because no matter how much Kise rambles sometime, he's quickly learned that he also provides a lot of useful information in between - purposely or not. Midorima makes it clear from the beginning that he is not only completely uninterested in what Kise has to say - to completely no avail - he also makes a point of antagonizing him any chance he gets. Despite that, Tetsuya notes how he doesn't follow up on his threat to sit away at another table. He also notes the small hand mirror he has put on the table beside him. Expensive taste, if he has ever seen one.

"Anyway, so I told Hana that I wasn't interested in her and she started crying. That's why I don't like girls confessing to me, they always make me feel bad." Kise pouts and looks at Midorima for validation.

"It is utterly beyond me what any woman of quality could want with you." Midorima says dryly.

"My good looks obviously." Kise replies, eyes slightly widened as though he cannot quite belief Midorima would miss something this obvious.

"Highly unlikely." Midorima adjusts his spectacles and finally bestows his full attention on Kise. "Attractiveness is entirely subjective, and while you are what is commonly considered attractive, your personality negates any possible positive impression. Besides, anyone with two eyes can see that you are barely above average compared to Akashi."

"Not fair Midorimacchi, comparing me to Akashicci." Kise pouts and Tetsuya thinks he detects a hint of smugness in Midorima's following 'hmph'.

Tetsuya thinks it's just as well that they likely forgot he is even here. Although, moments later Murasakibara leans in and whispers conspiratorially, "they will go on forever like this, if we don't stop them," before going back to munching his food.

Midorima's right eye starts twitching. Kise intensifies his mock-pouting. Tetsuya decides it is time to go.

Oddly enough, for as much of an airhead that he usually is, it takes one gentle touch to Kise's elbow and he gets the hint. "Alright, it's time for us to go." Kise bounces to his feet and waves happily at the people still sitting down. Muraskibara raises a hand and waves once, without looking up. Midorima mutters an angry 'go die' under his breath. Tetsuya just follows him up, careful not to tangle his robes with the furniture. He really needs to do something about that. Moving is unnecessarily complicated in his momentary wardrobe.

Kise makes true on his words and shows him the palace's exterior. The gardens are a sight to behold, masterfully groomed bushes and flowers, arranged in intricate patterns that invite the eye to rest. A cherry orchard stands in full bloom, despite the lateness of spring. Kise tells him of the legend surrounding these trees, according to which the very first Emperor of the Rakuzan line slept beneath a cherry tree and had a dream that foretold the birth of his Empire. As a sign of gratitude he planted the orchard. The legend further continued that the Rakuzan line would forever be blessed by the gods, as long as they lived under the shadow of cherry trees.

Tetsuya couldn't help but feel a twinge of bitterness at that. He touched a hand to the trunk of one of the trees. The bark was rough under his hands. There were no signs of gods, only the overwhelming scent of cherry blossoms.

Kise offered to show him the stables next, but Tetsuya declined, mindful of his clothes. He didn't want to get in trouble by getting manure on his clothes on the first day. He also didn't want to burden the servants with trying to wash manure out of the flimsy fabric of his robes.

When they returned to Tetsuya's rooms, they were awaited by one of the Imperial messengers, informing them that the two of them were expected for dinner with Akashi later.

He supposed that had been as much reprieve as he could hope for.


	4. Red Fraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Careful, dub-con ahead

Seijuro isn’t one to complain, but the wedding has left him swamped with work. Despite, or maybe even because of that, he decides to have dinner with Tetsuya. He has agreed to this marriage after all, it is time to find out more about the mystery that is Kuroko Tetsuya.

Tetsuya defies a lot of Seijuro’s expectations, and he is sure as hell going to find out why.

The servant he sent to the kitchens returns to inform him the preparations are complete. Seijuro hadn’t realized how late it had become already. His study doesn’t have a window, but the state of his candles tells him, he’s been in here for hours.

It’s just as well. The sooner he gets done with the political aftermath of his wedding, the sooner he can take care of important things. Seijuro divides the scrolls on his desk into piles. One for his courier to pick up later, one for the scrolls he has already worked through and one, significantly smaller for the scrolls that are yet untouched.

A knock alerts him to Shintarou’s presence. Atsushi is right behind him, looming in the doorway.

“Shintarou. Atsushi.” Seijuro acknowledges their presence with a nod. Shintarou replies in kind and walks to stand directly in front of the huge desk that dominates the room. In his hands he holds a small hand mirror. With glass being as rare and expensive as it is, Seijuro can only commend Shintarou for his skills in attaining his lucky item, the court astrologer divines every day.

“We’ve had a minor mishap with one of the guests, but it has already been taken care of. Other than that everything went smoothly. Ah, and the ambassador from Seiho requested an immediate audience.” Shintarou doesn’t attempt to hide his disapproval.

“You told him that’s impossible, I presume?”

“Of course.”

“The guest?”

“A retainer from Yosei who got in a fight.” Shintarou clears his throat. “With one of the vases in the grand foyer. Hayama intervened before any damage could be done but the retainer put up a fight. Expect remuneration from Yosei tomorrow at the latest.”

“I see.”

“Don’t forget the elephants.” Atsushi adds from the door and Seijuro raises his eyebrows at Shintarou.

“Elephants?”

“The ambassador from Hindustan brought a pair of white elephants as a gift and apology for not being able to attend.” Shintarou grimaces slightly. “The horses aren’t happy.”

“Will that be a problem?”

“Nebuya is taking care of it.” Shintarou says and leaves open what ‘taking care of’ means in this case. Not that Seijuro cares. Extravagant gifts like this aren’t meant to be practical or useful; they are merely a way of showing off wealth, and inconveniencing the receiving party.

“I see.” Seijuro finishes the cleanup of his desk. “Dinner is arranged, we should go.”

He’s ordered the servants to prepare dinner in Tetsuya’s rooms, as he has no intention to invite his consort into his own rooms. Tetsuya may have come from a powerful family, but the Teikou lands are far, and here at the court, his status depends solely on his relationship to Seijuro. He won’t offer Tetsuya his trust, before he hasn’t proven himself.

Daiki is already waiting in Tetsuya’s living, along with a fidgeting Ryouta. Servants have brought several small tables and pillows and laying out everything in a wide circle. All that’s missing is the food - and Tetsuya.

“Satsuki insisted Kuroko get a change of wardrobe.” Daiki says with a shrug, when he catches Seijuro’s glance. “I don’t know what all the fuss was about, he looked normal to me.”

“You should trust Momoicchi on things like this.” Ryouta says petulantly. He then turns to Seijuro. “Momoicchi forced him to go, don’t be mad with him.”

Seijuro gives him as much as a baffled looks as he ever allows himself to. “Why would I be mad with Tetsuya?” He asks, more as a challenge than that he actually needs to know.

Ryouta knows him well enough not to fall for it. His expression relaxes and he affects them with his usual happy smile. “I knew Akashicchi would understand.”

Of course he would. He is not unreasonable after all. But then he remembers their conversation yesterday and it makes sense. They are empathetic beings after all.

_“Do you really think that is a good idea?”_

_“Are you really asking me that?”_

_“No, of course not.” Ryouta is clearly uncomfortable but he doesn’t challenge Seijuro more than he already has._

_“If you have doubts about your ability to perform…” Seijuro doesn’t finish the sentence, knowing full well Ryouta, and the others for that matter, can follow._

_“That’s a low blow Akashicchi.” Ryouta huffs out a blow of air and shakes his head._

_“I don’t like it either.” Shintarou says and leaves it at that. Atsushi shrugs and Daiki acts as though the whole thing doesn’t concern him._

_“You can always refuse.” Seijuro says with just the slightest hint of an edge to his voice._

_“Now_ that _was a low blow, Kise.” Daiki says but his voice lacks any of its usual bite._

Of course, refusal is something he’d never accept.

He supposes his guards’ reactions stem from more than just their unwillingness, but empathy has never been a relatable concept. He is able to emulate it at times and he understands it somewhat on an intellectual level but it’s just that, an abstract idea of little real value. Compassion, ultimately, is a weakness.

Tetsuya enters with Satsuki on his heels. Seijuro is no stranger to people attempting to entice him with their attire; his harem is full of those after all, so he is a pleasant surprise that Tetsuya went for something different. None of the absurd frilly gowns or dresses that would befit a woman, but a narrow cut robe over loosely fitted hakama pants. The cut of course is exquisite and the color chosen to flatter Tetsuya, rather than swallow him up like all the other things he’s seen him in. Satsuki’s taste is impeccable as always.

“Good evening.” Tetsuya’s bow is perfect, down to the placement of his feat. A feat that even Shintarou barely ever pulls off, not to mention completely fails to make look natural.

“Good evening, Tetsuya.” Seijuro greets and gestures to the seating arrangement. Tetsuya walks to one of the pillows and sinks to his knees with the same effortless ease that he affords on everything else.

Atsushi and Ryouta follow him easily enough, taking up their seats on one of Tetsuya’s side, while Shintarou kneels with all the grace of a stick. Daiki just glowers at him and sinks down eventually, making no effort at all to follow the proper procedural. Sitting and dining in the old traditional seiza position is rarely practiced these days, but Seijuro finds there is a lot to learn from forcing proud man to sit on their knees for a long period of time.

Seijuro waits until everyone is seated before he sinks down graciously himself. HIs own pillow is lightly elevated by a wooden platform, to distinguish his higher rank. Satsuki catches his eye and bows to excuse herself and alert the kitchen.

Tetsuya is perfectly behaved during dinner. Seijuro leaves it to his guards to make most of the conversation, but he is listening very closely to everything that’s been said. Tetsuya is perfectly polite, yet rather close-lipped about his personal matters.

“So how come you are not the heir of your line?” Daiki tries, after too much sake and a proclivity for tactless questions. Seijuro saves the reprimand, mainly because he’s curious himself.

“That, you have to ask my estimated grandmother.” Tetsuya says with no inflection whatsoever. He has barely touched his sake, giving him a clear advantage over the two currently trying to gauge his life story from him. To be fair, Seijuro doubts sobriety would affect any different an outcome.

Tetsuya’s used to keeping secrets. That much is certain.

“Your grandmother?” Ryouta hangs half off Daiki’s shoulder in an attempt to look at Tetsuya. “What does your grandmother got to do with anything?” At least, when it comes to Ryouta, Seijuro can count on him to keep his wits together enough to overact the playful drunk. Ryouta is not nearly as much of an airhead that he wants others to think he is, and Daiki is all too well versed in providing proper, albeit mostly involuntary, distraction.

“She decided my brother was much more suited to the task.” Tetsuya says evenly.

Ryouta frowns. “What about your parents?”

Something flickers through Tetsuya’s eyes, a shadow of a memory maybe, but in the fraction of a second it’s there, Seijuro thinks he saw something he was never meant to see.

“Shirai Naomi is the current head of the Teikou.” Shintarou offers stiffly. “Her daughter died of unknown cause, leaving her children as next in line.”

Tetsuya looks up at him, expression unreadable. There’s a tiny twitch around his mouth, as though he wanted to speak up but thought better of it at the last minute.

The conversation after that, flounders.

“Did you enjoy the palace tour?”

“I did. Thank you Akashi-sama.” Tetsuya’s voice is as blank as his expression.

“Did Ryouta entertain you well?” Ryouta makes an undignified sound, as though he’s complaining thatSeijuro inquires after his skills as a host. Seijuro pays him no mind.”

“He did.”

And like this, it continues.

The servants come and go as they bring dish after dish. The sake keeps flowing and Tetsuya’s hands are very small and delicate, yet he yields his chopsticks with absolute elegance and precision. He barely touched his food, Seijuro notes.

He gives the servants a signal, cutting off the flow of sake. Daiki shoots him a very reproachful glare, but doesn’t complain and Ryouta allows his mask to slip for merely a second before he pulls himself together. Alcohol is a way too dangerous coping mechanism, especially over such a trivial matter.

“Tell me about your family.” Seijuro picks up the threads of their conversation. Daiki and Ryouta perk up visibly, while Shintarou shows his interest by turning his head in their direction. Only Atsushi doesn’t betray his interest, although Seijuro knows from experience that he is listening.

But none of his guards’ reactions come much as a surprise, unlike Tetsuya’s. Their eyes meet for a short moment; Tetsuya’s are sharp and cold, like shards of mirror glass. For all that he took the others’ questions with remarkable calm, Seijuro must have unsettled him.

The temperature seems to have suddenly dropped several degrees.

Tetsuya looks away almost immediately. “Akashi-sama is my family now.” Tetsuya’s voice is low and slightly higher in pitch, a perfect depiction of demureness.

Seijuro puts down his sake cup in a slow and measured gesture. In his peripheral vision he can see the members of his guard tense in reaction.

“Tetsuya.” Seijuro chides softly, but he doesn’t effort to hide the edge. “You play your role well. I can see why you have been chosen.” He puts little effort in to mask the implications of his words. As much political advantages this marriage might offer, it changes little about its nature.

The line separating Kuroko Tetsuya from a street whore is merely one by word.

Tetsuya’s reply is just as ripe with implications, his face remains an impenetrable mask though. “I’m sure Akashi-sama is very wise in saying that.”

“Why would you say that?” Seijuro inquires, using his sake cup as an excuse to watch Tetsuya closely. Some opponents give more away when they think themselves unwatched. It must be because of that, that he notices the almost imperceptible tensing of Tetsuya’s hands around the chop sticks still in his hands. It only lasts for a few short moments.

“Apologies, I did not mean to overstep my boundaries.” Tetsuya’s eyelids flutter and he looks down, hands folded now, in the perfect image of contriteness. It might have fooled a lesser man.

How much time and practice must have flown into this facade.

“It’s a role.” Seijuro reminds him softly, but for the thin edge of steel in his voice. Tetsuya’s expression shifts, and for a moment Seijuro can see that cold hardness in his eyes again. For the duration of its presence, Seijuro is almost certain Tetsuya is angry. But then it vanishes, and Tetsuya is back to that carefully blank expression again.

An uncomfortable silence settles among them. Daiki fidgets restless, instincts clearly warring with the obvious absence of a foe to fight. Ryouta’s usual spark is slightly dulled and he stares listlessly at his table. Shintarou fiddles with his lucky item, heedless of the small fortune he holds in hands. Even Atsushi has pulled his attention from his food and is watching Tetsuya closely.

He supposes that makes now as good as time as any.

“I’ll be honest with you.” Seijuro lifts his gaze and lets it rest heavily on Tetsuya, omitting the fact that he never is anything but. “You have no value to me. You can’t bear children; you bring little in the terms of power or wealth with you, as I possess both in abundance.” He leans forward, willing Tetsuya to look up at him, which he finally does.

The expression in Tetsuya’s eyes is similar to those he’s already caught glimpses of, but this time he feels a very real chill chase down his spine. And this is the first time that Seijuro sees it in full force, that hint of cold and death that clings to Kuroko Tetsuya like a coat of shadows.Whatever hides beneath Tetsuya’s cool façade, is much darker than his outward appearance would invite to belief.

Seijuro wonders just how similar they truly are.

“Ultimately, you are expendable should you prove a liability.” Seijuro doesn’t change his inflection; he doesn’t have to. No threat of his is ever uttered lightly. “You have potential though. It is up to you what you make of that potential though. I won’t hold your hand. Prove yourself useful to me and you will gain my respect.” He doesn’t add that he has high expectations for Tetsuya. He is not the kind of person who would need incentive, but rather the kind of person who’d glean too much information from a statement like that.

“As you wish, Akashi-sama.” The ice is gone from Tetsuya’s gaze. Without it, his presence seems to diminish until he almost blends with the background. Quite remarkable, truly.

“There’s no reason for formality. I have enough people licking my boots as it is.”

“Very well.” Tetsuya says and there’s a slight change in the tone of his voice. “Akashi-kun.”

Shintarou makes a vaguely protesting sound next to him. Seijuro ignores it.

“That will do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They finish dinner and wait patiently until the servants have cleaned up. When the last servant has left the room Akashi stands up. His guards follow his example and for lack of a better option, Tetsuya follows suit.

A sinking feeling spreads in Tetsuya’s stomach when Akashi leads the way into his bedroom. A feeling much too close to fear. Tetsuya hesitates in the doorway but Akashi beckons him closer and with little choice, he walks in. He can’t help but think of what his mentor had said to him, such a seemingly endless time ago. _Open spaces Kuroko-kun. Never let your enemies back you against a wall._

He’s on edge even before the door closes behind him. And even though he keeps to the center of the room, even though he’s fast and impossible to pin down if he doesn’t want to, Tetsuya also knows that he can’t escape what is coming. Too much hinges on Akashi’s cooperation.

“This is in no way personal.” Akashi says after he’s sat down in one of the arm chairs that are grouped around the small table at the other side of the room. Tetsuya fights off every instinct that urges him to take a battle stance.

Seijuro waves a hand, so casual it would hurt if Tetsuya were the sentimental type.

He takes a step back but there is nowhere he could go. His hand falls to his leg on primal instinct, but there is no knife strapped there this time, no hidden weapon to defend himself. HIs thoughts jump to the knife hidden underneath his nightstand, but he can’t fight this one. So he thinks of Shizuka instead. Shizuka whose life lies in his hands.

“I’m sorry Kurokocchi.” Kise mutters without meeting his eyes. There’s no trace now of the cheerful man he’s come to know, nor of the rather heavy alcohol intoxication from earlier. Tetsuya lets him and Daiki grab his arms and haul him over to the bed. He doesn’t fight them as they push him down, hands firm but without force.

The ceiling above him yields no comfort.

 

“I told you.” Akashi says from the other side of the room. “I have no intention of fucking you. But the deed must be done.” He smirks, cold and twisted and so _different_ from what he’s been before. Tetsuya has to clench his fists until his nails dig into the palms of his hands in order not to fight back. He could, the Gods know he could, but if he does, everything would have been in vain.

“You should feel honored Tetsuya.” He doesn’t know this man, doesn’t know what changed; only that something did change and that everything this Akashi says spikes a very guttural fear in him.

Murasakibara - or is it Midorima? - pulls his legs apart. He catches Kise’s eyes for a moment, shadowed with guilt but there is no hesitation in his movements as he pushes Tetsuya’s shoulder into the sheets.

 _It’s okay._ Tetsuya thinks. _If this is what I have to do, then so be it._ Tetsuya wills his body to go completely limp.

Cold hands pull on his clothes, fabric rips and then he feels the sting of air on his lower body. He can’t think of Shizuka like this, naked and exposed so he thinks of blood instead. Blood and cold unyielding stone under his skin.

Something cold presses against his anus, cold and wet and Tetsuya jerks on instinct, away from the intrusion but he can’t move. He knows what’s happening, knows what will happen, as his brother shared the details all too willingly. His mentor amended most of the gruesome facts, but warned him either way it wouldn’t be a nice feeling.

“Relax.” Midorima commands tightly and Tetsuya does, because he hadn’t even realizes he’d gone tense. It doesn’t hurt. Not really. But the feeling is still uncomfortable, something - a finger probably - intruding into a part of him where it has no place being.

He thinks of blood on grey stone and it gets easier. He’s doing this for a reason. He’s been through worse.

This is nothing.

It doesn’t stop the faint burn of tears in his eyes.

He clings to that thought as Midorima works him open. He clings to that thought when a strange sort of pleasure fills his body and he clings to that thought when Midorima enters him. It doesn’t hurt, they’re careful enough, but the feeling is still an intrusion and Tetsuya wants to push it out with all his might.

It’s not painful, and maybe that makes it all the more worse. He feels an occasional spike of pleasure, an odd sensation whenever Midorima seems to hit a certain spot within him. He can feel the heat pool in his belly, slightly, not enough to actually arouse him but still enough to make him feel flushed hot and restless. He bites his lip not to pant too obviously, but there’s little he can do to stop his erratic breathing.

Midorima eventually finishes, coming with a low grunt and blunt nails on Tetsuya’s thighs. His reprieve is short-lived however, as Murasakibara takes his place. Aomine and Kise have loosened their grips at this point, but fight is the last thought on Tetsuya’s mind right now.

Murasakibara pulls him up and against him, the shift in position drawing a sound from Tetsuya’s lips he’s too late to catch. Tetsuya wraps his arms around Murasakibara’s huge shoulders, as it seems the natural thing to do.

 _If you can’t beat them, join them._ Someone once said that to him, but Tetsuya can’t remember who it was. Everything is slightly fuzzy and out of focus. Murasakibara sinks into him with ease, now that he’s been loosened up.

Someone chuckles, he can’t tell whom and then there are hands on his face, tilting it until lips press onto his. A streak of yellow catches his eyes, it must be Kise then and Tetsuya just allows the flow to take him away, closing his eyes as an instinct he didn’t know he had takes over.

Kise’s tongue is wet against his lips and Tetsuya opens up naturally. It’s easier, after all, to just go with the flow. Something presses into his right hand, something hot and smooth and he follows the movement as well, closing his hand around the shaft to the sound of low moaning. He can’t tell who makes the sound, it doesn’t really matter.

The pleasure that had been so elusive moments before, builds up steadier now, a constant surge of heat. Kise breaks the kiss, moist breath ghosts over his face and then the lips latch on to the skin under his ear. This time it’s him that’s moaning but he’s too overwhelmed to register much else. He’s vaguely aware that his hand is using on its own now, up and down, up and down to the melody of rough moans. Murasakibara inside of him is a steady source of heat and pleasure and he feels like falling and falling until the world around him disappears.

Something pokes against his lips and he opens up, welcoming the thick shaft that pushes in. It’s hard to breath past it, but then a blur of blue enters into his vision, Aomine’s face pulled into ecstasy and the thought swims away like everything else in his mind. The air is filled with groans and moans and so many iterations of his name that Tetsuya feels almost worshipped, like he’s a God in his shrine and the people around him fuel his powers with their touch.

The thought is nice and cushioning and Tetsuya gives himself over to it, allowing the pleasure to wash away everything else. The heat in his body keeps building but there’s still something missing. He reaches out with his left hand, grabs on when he meets skin - a body - and he pulls until the body falls against him, naked skin on naked skin and the heat is multiplying but still not enough.

“Kurokocchi.” Hot breath against his ear and then lips and Tetsuya’s body arches against his will, he grazes his teeth over the penis in his mouth accidentally and Aomine’s hand lands tight in his hair. Murasakibara shifts again and Tetsuya’s moan is almost a scream as the motion hits him just right. He’s dizzy and moaning and such a mess it would be embarrassing if anything in him were still able to care.

Aomine grunts and tightens his hold on his hair. The body he’s pulled against him shifts, and then there’s Midorima in his vision, skin slightly flushed and spectacles nowhere in sight and even though he just had his turn he’s already hard again, rubbing himself aback into hardness. Tetsuya reaches out without thinking, hand closing around his erection like it belongs there and nowhere else. Midorima makes a choked sound, surprised and his eyes fall closed with the contented sigh that follows.

“Kuro-chin.” Murasakibara’s moans sound very much like his name and he’s a God again, four beings bent to his will and then his eyes meet Akashi’s, coincidentally or maybe pulled by strings of fate. He can’t look away from that gaze, despite the sensations pulling on his mind, despite the overwhelming surge of pleasure that threatens to swallow him up.

Akashi’s eyes are intense, locked on him and in that moment a thought strikes him, fleeting, just dancing out of his reach, but he feels it is important, essential that he grasps it, and it’s then that the force that’s built up inside of him, finally releases. It’s like every little sensation that’s been building up to this point coalesces into one. It’s so powerful it wipes his mind clean of everything; the world dissolves in nothing but bliss and pleasure. It leaves him floating and filled with such a deep peace Tetsuya could cry.

The first thing he notes when he comes back to is the warmth that seems to encompass him completely. It’s like a fuzzy blanket, but the sensation slowly fades, giving way to other things. He feels heavy, like all the energy’s been drained from his limbs. There’s a bitter taste on his tongue, remnants of something salty and sticky, trailing over his lips and cheeks. His hands are covered in the same substance, and with the realization of what it is, comes sobriety.

He’s alone on the bed now, sweaty and covered in the cum of five people, including his own. HIs brother, Tetsuya thinks bitterly, would surely rejoice if he knew, now that he has finally become the whore he always saw in him.

He feels around for the blanket to cover himself, but since he’s lying on top of the bed, that proves to be rather difficult. Akashi is alone in his armchair, watching silently as Tetsuya attempts to regain what’s left his dignity.

Tetsuya’s hand stops. His skin is starting to cool and being covered in the bodily fluids of various men isn’t exactly comfortable. It’s also not something he ought to be ashamed of. All of this serves a higher purpose, if anything, he should be proud. No matter how much pain he has to go through, if it ensures the safety of the people he cares for, it’s all worth it.

He sits up in his bed, taking a careful moment to assess the condition of his body. Nothing hurts, but he doesn’t feel confident in the strength of his legs. It seems as though they’ll collapse under him the moment he gets up.

He can feel Akashi’s eyes on his skin, almost like a physical touch. The shame threatens to flare up again but Tetsuya refuses to give in. He lifts his head to look into Akashi’s eyes. The gold of his left eye seems to be burning. His thoughts drift to the knife hidden away under the nightstand. Akashi’s posture is relaxed, outwardly, but Tetsuya can read the subtle signs. Slightly parted lips, legs spread open just wide enough to relieve any possible pressure and chest movement that is slightly too fast to be regular breathing.

And for a moment he can see it as clear as day. How he lets his body fall open in invitation, skin that’s still glistening with sweat and promise and maybe Akashi would even be lured in by the view. It would be so easy then, as easy as breathing.

But the knife Kagami had given him was gone, just his hands remained, his hands he couldn’t use, because he had made a promise to Kagami.

_Promise me._

_Why?_

_Because this is the only thing I can do for you._

Ultimately, it’s a good thing Akashi would never pick up the leftovers of other men.

Tetsuya can no longer bear the silence.

“Was the price worth it?” He asks. The sound of his voice leaves little doubt as to what he’s been up to. The noises forced from his throat have left his voice raspy and hoarse.

It’s getting cold, but the fact doesn’t quite register with him.

Akashi doesn’t reply in word, but evaluates him with a cool calculating gaze. The twisted personality he’s glimpsed at earlier seems to be gone for now. Tetsuya feels exhaustion settle in his bones. Not just from his physical activities. The weight of his task weighs down heavily on him. He pulls the blanket around him, more an act of heat preserving than protecting his dignity. He wants to know what Akashi is thinking, wants to know if all of this, if _he_ was worth it. But it’s not Akashi who can give him that answer.

“We are the same.” He says and to his own surprise, he sounds bitter. Akashi’s eyes grow cold but before he can say anything, Tetsuya beats him to it. “I’ve wondered, but I guess that answers the question. You don’t even know what you bought with this marriage, do you?”

He keeps his eyes on Akashi’s, strangely indifferent to the fear he’s felt earlier. He wonders how Akashi would look, if he told him the truth, the whole ugly truth of why he’s here.

He resists the urge to touch a hand to the scar on his neck.

“A whore.” Akashi says voice as cold as his eyes. The absurdity almost pulls a laugh from Tetsuya’s lungs. Almost.

“A whore with a right to the throne.” This time, the surprise on Akashi’s face is obvious. His eyebrows shoot and his eyes widen. Only for a moment, before he pulls himself together again. Tetsuya feels his lips curl into a cold smile on their own volition.

Maybe it’s the aftershock of his orgasm, or maybe he just feels fatalistic, but Tetsuya finds himself with the need to let Akashi share the painful truth of his twisted existence.

“So you didn’t know?”

“What are you talking about?” Akashi’s voice is low and ice cold. In any other state Tetsuya might have shivered at the warning undertone. Now, all he feels is a deep bitterness. Akashi is always in control, not only of his emotions, but also his fate. As similar as they are, ultimately they are as far apart in position as it could be. Tetsuya clenches his hand around the hilt of a knife that isn’t there.

Blood can’t always be the answer.

“My father,” He says, all the anger gone now, “was your father’s cousin.”

“Those were mere rumors.” Akashi says tightly, but Tetsuya can read in his eyes that he knows better.

“The rumors are true.” Tetsuya says evenly. _Not that it saved mother_. “What do you think that makes me?” He sounds more provocative than he intended to, but his grip on his emotions is feeble right now.

Akashi’s eyes are hard when he replies. “Nothing.”

 _Of course,_ Tetsuya thinks. How could it _ever_ be different?

“Maybe you are right.” And somehow that thought hurtsin places it shouldn’t. “But my existence is a risk in itself. A claim is a claim, how insignificant it may seem.” _It didn’t save me either_. “The question is not why your ministers wanted me married to you, but why my family agreed. _I_ have no assets other than my family name, which is all but useless to you. But married to you, my claim is void. Why do you think my family was so willing to give that up?”

Akashi’s eyes narrow at him, cold and sharp.

“There is no one in line after you.” Tetsuya adds, voice carefully blank. “Except me.”

Akashi doesn’t reply, but it is clear from his expression – cold and drawn tight – that he’s teetering on the edge of that other him, the one Tetsuya had caught a glimpse of earlier. More than just a glimpse.

“A rumor we have your word on.” Akashi says after a few more beats. “Don’t presume you could live up to be a threat. I won’t loosen my grasp until you are all dead.” There’s the darkness again, sharp and dangerous in Akashi’s eyes.

But this time, Tetsuya matches it with his own. They stare at each other, icy steel and the burning cold of a frozen flame. For a moment the world seems to have stopped in its tracks.

Maybe Akashi sees something in him then, maybe he realizes how much danger Tetsuya hides in his heart, holds in his blood. Something in Akashi seems to draw back and a moment later he has returned to his usual calm self-

“A marriage among high social circles is always a trade.” Akashi says evenly. “Power, influence or money.” He shrugs dismissively. “It’s nothing new. Your family,” His eyes flash momentarily, “made a bad deal, that is all.”

Tetsuya rubs his hands over his blanket, leaving behind flecks of dried cum. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted a bath this badly in his life.

“I haven’t been traded off for wealth or power.” Tetsuya says just as evenly _._ If only it were that simple. But it’s not, and Tetsuya can’t divulge the real reason why he’s here, why he’s been traded of like cattle, why his family was far too willing to give away their first born son. Why it meant so little to them to give away Tetsuya’s life to someone who had no reason to value it.

“They’re silencing you. And me.” He’s willing Akashi to finally understand what he’s trying to tell him, willing him to draw the connection himself, because he’d never believe Tetsuya if he’d laid it down for him.

Akashi arches his eyebrows. His look when he scrutinizes Tetsuya is contemplative. “Your claim holds no value for your family.” He concludes eventually. It is not a question. He doesn’t give away what he thinks of the revelation.

“But it is there, and if played right I could have ended up on the throne.”

“You’re making little sense.” Akashi says with disdain. “What point is there in silencing you? You hold no worth, even your heritage puts you too far back into the line of succession to be of use. Do you even realize how many people stand between the throne and you? In addition to the glaring lack of support from your family.” A cruel twists plays on Akashi’s mouth. “So what is it that you’re trying to tell me?”

“What would have happened if the Imperial court had learned of this relation?” Tetsuya counters. Akashi frowns and opens his mouth to reply but shuts it a moment later.

“Nothing really.” He says slowly. “Except…” Except that it would have given the Emperor, and by extension the court, the right to nose into the Teikou’s business. Something they’ve tried before only with little effect on their results. Despite the interlacing family history, the Teikou never officially joined under the Empire’s umbrella. Their wealth and power is a continued threat to the Emperor, only barely held in check through marital bonds.

The Teikou don’t owe Akashi taxes, not by law at least, let alone accountability.

The thing that Akashi’s ministers failed to understand was, that the Teikou value their independence over everything else. And as power hungry as they are, it is a different form of power they seek.

His claim could have been the perfect opening ticket into the affairs of the Teikou. As long as Akashi was in power, Tetsuya’s claim was worthless. Akashi could have used the opening to widen his influence, to finally put the Teikou in their rightful place.

It is obvious, that Akashi is very much aware of that.

“What does that make you then?” He eventually asks. “What compelled your family to sell you like a cheap whore, when they could have the throne instead?”

Tetsuya’s response is a bitter smile. It’s as much of an answer he _can_ give.

Akashi takes it in, eyes cold and knowing and _judging_. Because Akashi hadn’t been wrong, when he called Tetsuya a whore, even though it’s one of his own making. Tetsuya’s only solace is that it’s only a fraction of the answer.

“It must have come in handy that my ministers have little more sense than a monkey.” Akashi doesn’t seem too perturbed by that fact. “I suppose it is reassuring to know your family doesn’t plan my abdication.” His tone of voice leaves little doubt as to how little he is threatened by the notion.

Of course, unlike him, Akashi truly is untouchable. Tetsuya has been little more than a pawn in fates hand all his life. The power he held, was never his own.

Everything today has just been too much. Tetsuya wants nothing more than to lie down and let his mind come to rest. So many questions have been raised, so few have been answered.

“Go clean yourself up.” Akashi says and stands up. It’s not a request, but Tetsuya doesn’t really care. Not when his skin itches in too many places and he can still feel the semen leak out of his ass.

“Tetsuya.” Akashi’s voice holds him back just as he’s about to enter the bathroom. He turns around to look at Akashi, who’s standing in the doorway, framed by shadows and the aura of true power. “I will find your secret.”

Tetsuya finds his patience and capacity for mind games have reached their limits. He smiles then, cold and brittle, the way Kagami once told him looked like razor blades and death. The way, he sometimes felt, was the only way left for him to smile.

“Pray you will never find it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya feels substantially better after taking a bath, even though ‘taking a bath’ consists of rubbing himself clean with a washcloth dipped in cold water. But he doesn’t think he could quite handle it right now to have his three handmaids fuss over him. Not when he has come to terms with what just happened.

Tetsuya feels cold but refreshed after his clean up. But that feeling vanishes as soon as he returns to the bedroom. There is no way to hide what happened here. The air is still heavy with the scent of sex and the bed is an ugly mess.

Tetsuya quickly throws a robe over his form before he goes to open the window. The night air is chill against his skin, but the fresh air does wonders to clear up the stench of the room. It’s beautiful night; the moon a beautiful crescent in a star dotted sky. It is peaceful.

The palace itself is rather compact, with expansion upwards rather than sideways. Tetsuya can just barely make out the large tower that overlooks the North wing, a tract that is rather young according to Kise. The living spaces in the West wing are one the second to highest floor, downwards leads a stone wall furbished by too many years. No wonder Kagami had such an easy time climbing up here.

His window looks out the back of the palace, over the garden and some of the smaller side buildings, the servant quarters and even part of the stables. He can make out the shapes of the cherry trees in the distance, blossoms a sickly shade of pink against the pale light of the moon.

It’s tempting to just climb down himself, walk in the shadow of those trees and see for himself just how far Akashi’s power reaches. But he can’t, not with the aftershocks of what his body has been through still clinging to him.

Not when he can still feel their touch on his skin.

Tetsuya turns his back to the enticing sight of freedom. Not for the first time, he thinks, it won’t be the last. The air has cleared up, but his bed is still a mess. He checks his wardrobe, but there are no clean sheets. He doesn’t feel up to going out and find the nearest linen closet.

It wouldn’t be the first time he slept on the floor.

His last act before succumbing to the bone-deep exhaustion in his body is checking under the nightstand for his knife. It might have slid further than he thought, but deep down Tetsuya knows that it’s gone. One of the handmaids must have found it.

It’s all just the same. Any blade is just an illusion of safety after all.

He falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow he pulled from the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryouta is waiting for him in his reception room, fiddling with a knife, the very same knife the handmaids uncovered earlier in Tetsuya’s room. Seijuro’s had some thoughts as to why it was there, but ultimately it’s yet another piece of the puzzle that is Kuroko Tetsuya. And that puzzle just got more complex this night.

He also expected Shintarou to give him the rundown, but it’s not that big of a surprise to see Ryouta instead. He’s always been the one with the most social tact, which doesn’t necessarily say much, considering the company.

“He’s got a scar.” Ryouta says without preamble. He slides a finger along the side of his throat. “It’s old and barely visible, but…” He puts the knife down on the table. “It goes all the way through.” Ryouta doesn’t explicitly say it, but Seijuro gets the meaning all the same. It’s not a wound anyone should have survived.

Piece after piece, but the puzzle yet eludes him. Akashi picks up the knife and tests its blade against his thumb. It’s so sharp it breaks the skin with barely any pressure at all. It’s an unusual knife, the handle is just a piece of metal that hasn’t been sharpened and the blade is short and slightly curved. He has never seen a knife like this before.

“Anything else?”

Ryouta shrugs. “Aside from that it’s his only scar? Nothing.” Akashi supposes that it’s already more than he could have expected. He puts the knife down. The wound on his thumb is so thin, there’s barely any blood flow but the pain is intense all the same.

Seijuro thinks of Tetsuya’s small hands closed around the hilt of a knife.

Maybe they truly are the same.

He thinks of what it would feel like if Tetsuya plunged it into his heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hindustan = India


	5. Puzzle Pieces

Tetsuya doesn’t see Akashi or any of his guards for the next few days. He is not strictly confined to his rooms, but he’s also not encouraged to leave them. When he does try to leave though, his guards insist on following him. They may attempt to make it seem as though they’re for his protection but Tetsuya has few illusions about that.

He spends most of his time in the library, reading up on whatever he can find. His meals get served in his rooms; a lonely affair if he’d ever cared for that. Still, it could be worse, he can leave and roam the palace whenever he pleases, and his handmaids have reassured him they’d get him anything his heart could desire.

He visits the gardens as often as he can. He’s always preferred being outside and he has found that the orchard makes for a good and undisturbed reading place. There are a few moments when he feels so brittle he could break at the softest of touches and there are moments when he can’t shake the feeling of hands on his skin, but they are few and far in between.

And then, one week after he left, Kagami shows up again. It’s late evening; Tetsuya is going through his daily training routine, before going to bed. He’d been too tired the first and too sore the second day since his arrival, but he didn’t like to slack off his practice for long if he could avoid it. Besides, the familiar movements gave his mind a well-needed reprieve.

There’s the faintest of movements among the curtains, a shadow in Tetsuya’s peripheral vision, and that’s as much warning as he gets before Kagami strikes at him. Tetsuya spins, deflecting Kagami’s attacking arm with his right hand while simultaneously jabbing the ring and index finger of his left hand against his wrist. Kagami follows his turn and slams the palm of his hand against Tetsuya’s chest, pushing him backwards effectively and Tetsuya allows himself to drop to the floor and roll out of range.

“Good to see you’re not out of practice.” Kagami says, dropping his combat stance. Tetsuya rolls his eyes.

“It’s been less than a month.” He says dryly. “Give me your wrist.”

Kagami reaches out the arm Tetsuya had jabbed earlier, wincing slightly as he examines it. “Sorry about that.” He says, and pushes his thumb in to dislodge the nerve he’d jammed. Kagami curses under his breath.

“You had to use full force, didn’t you?” Kagami pulls his arm back and bends his hand a few times, the result obviously satisfying.

“Actually, that wasn’t full force. I’m sorry for hurting you though.”

Kagami just shrugs. “I guess that means I don’t have to worry.” He says lightly, but his eyes are fixed on Tetsuya, waiting for any sign he’s wrong. Tetsuya doesn’t visibly react, but he can’t help the images popping up in his mind. Can’t help that despite how often he tells himself he wanted it, he still feels like scraping his skin off. He finds he can’t quite meet Kagami’s eyes.

“Are you alright?” The question is tentative, as though Kagami _knows_ how fragile he truly feels.

Tetsuya stares at his bed, the sheets changed and perfectly white, but he can feel their touches on his skin like an echo. The shame he feels isn’t because they had him, but because he’s scared of what Kagami could think if he knew.

“I am.” He says and his voice sounds exactly as it always does, impassive. Because _nothing_ happened. Nothing he hadn’t taken into consideration beforehand, nothing he wasn’t perfectly aware would have to be a part of his plan.

“Good.” Kagami exhales and flops on his bed. The sheets rustle faintly at the disturbance and Tetsuya _remembers_. So far his nights have been peaceful, but he can’t help but wonder if his next nightmare will be the familiar red on grey or if the colors will finally change to something else.

He belatedly realizes that he’s been spacing out for quite a while now, and that Kagami is watching him. Kagami’s rather impressive eyebrows are drawn down and he looks pensive, worried.

The sweat on his body has turned cold.

Tetsuya thinks Kagami is going to inquire after what’s happened, but instead he pulls out a folded piece of paper from his clothes. “Aida asked me to give you this.” He hands it to Tetsuya who finally sits down next to him.

He ignores the odd feeling that wells up, sitting next to Kagami on the same bed he’s been had by four other men.

Tetsuya unfolds the paper and reveals a hastily scribbled note. He stares at the characters for a moment, before he crumples the letter and holds it into the flame of the candle on his nightstand.

 _The canary waits your return._ A private message, just for him. It’s more than just saying his niece is missing him, it’s Riko’s way of telling him he better come back. A familiar feeling of sadness wells in his chest.

“We’re running out of time.” He says quietly as he watches the paper slowly turn black and then into flakes of dust that dance through the air before falling to the ground. “My brother’s wife is pregnant again.” Kagami’s eyes widen before his face pulls into a displeased frown.

“It’s barely been what, three month now, since…” Kagami trails off, waving his hand in a vague manner. “We still have more than a year.” He then adds hopefully.

“One year and two months.” Tetsuya supplies bleakly. He knows exactly how much time they have left. He could count it down to the day if he wanted to.

“How is Ryouma?” He finally asks.

Kagami evaluates him for a moment before replying: “Good. Riko and Hyuuga have found a good place for him.” He pauses for a moment, expression softening before he continues. “It was a good decision. He’s safe now.”

Tetsuya didn’t have a doubt about that, but still, hearing it, makes his heart fill with relief.

“Although your brother has become even more a pain in the ass then before.” Kagami grimaces.

“He doesn’t suspect anything?”

“Not a thing. He’s too busy being in charge and bossing everyone around.” Kagami’s voice is close to a sneer. “But,” he side eyes Tetsuya for a moment before he goes on, “I think he was looking forward to it. He’s had a few moments, where he just spaced out, I don’t know. He told Izuki he always wanted a son.” A flash of bitterness crosses over Kagami’s face. “But I guess now that Mariko is pregnant again, that’s all done with.”

Tetsuya makes a noncommittal sound.

“Shizuka’s fine though.” Kagami says with a careful note of gentleness in his voice.

Tetsuya thinks of the message Aida sent him. Of course, she didn’t tell Kagami. He wonders what it would have taken to take her away instead of her brother. What it would have cost them. He would have paid any price, he thinks. They should have risked it, even at the cost of all their careful laid out plans. When all they have is so little time on their hands.

Kagami touches him gently on the shoulder. “Hey.” he says softly and Tetsuya realizes belatedly that he’s crying. “It was the right decision. There’s no way we could have taken her away without seeming suspicious, without _anyone_ noticing.”

“We could have tried.” Tetsuya’s voice sounds hoarse and bereft of the feelings his tears betray.

“And we would have died trying.” Kagami says simply. Tetsuya knows he’s right. If he weren’t, he wouldn’t be here. It’s the reason their plan builds so much on power that isn’t their own.

“We still have time.” Kagami says, and pats his back. “It will be fine, you’ll see.” And Tetsuya believes him, for he has little else choice.

He rubs away the tears still trailing down his face. “What about the others?”

Kagami’s face falls and he looks away. “Izuki’s fine but Kiyoshi’s not good. He’ll never be able to use his leg properly again and it’s giving him a hard time. But,” He tries a hopeful smile. “Aida has asked him to teach the young ones and so far he really seems to enjoy sharing his knowledge.” _But it’s not the same_ , is what he seems to want to add.

Tetsuya stares at the ceiling. “I’ll serve him up my brother’s leg.” He says, and his inflection doesn’t give away if he’s joking. Truth be told, he doesn’t even know himself. The anger simply runs too deep. Kagami stares at him for a moment before trying a grin.

“You’re damn scary if you want to.”

“If you say so.” There’s another stretch of silence before Kagami shifts and Tetsuya decides that the ceiling doesn’t have any worthwhile secrets to offer.

“Kuroko.” Kagami starts and Tetsuya already knows what’s coming. There’s no way he would just let that go. “Did…” He swallows. “I know the rules.” He swallows again and Tetsuya wishes he would look somewhere else, but Kagami’s watching him closely. Kagami knows him well enough after all. “Did he do anything to you?”

Tetsuya can’t help it, he laughs. It’s a short bitter sound that scratches his throat like sandpaper. “ _He_ didn’t do anything.” _He didn’t have to._ Kagami looks at him, and in this moment Tetsuya hates the fact that he never properly learned to hide his thoughts and feelings. He can see Kagami working through the information, bit after bit, and he can pinpoint the exact moment he draws the conclusion. He only wishes there were more possibilities for variance. But Kagami _does_ know the rules.

“What did they do?” Kagami bolts from his seat and has Tetsuya’a shoulders in a tight grip, tumbling them both forward and down on the bed, in about the time it takes him to blink, and also the time it takes for Kagami to realize just what he’s actually doing. His face, previously drawn into a grimace of worry, dissolves into shock and then horror and he flings himself back so violently he almost dislodges the carpet in the process.

 _Nothing,_ is what he wants to say, but the word won’t come. He opens his mouth to say something else, but he’ll never know what he was actually going to say that moment, because they’re not safe and they’re not home and there is still a guard posted in front of Tetsuya’s rooms.

The soft tap tap of footsteps outside Tetsuya’s doors is all the warning they get. Kagami’s eyes widen for the fraction of a second before he’s up and at the window. He gives himself a moment to look at Tetsuya, sympathy, worry, apology - all of it written on his face.

And then he’s gone.

Tetsuya stares at the curtains, moving softly as though Kagami was waving goodbye. Steps pause in front of the bedroom door and there is a soft knock and then a voice. “Kuroko-sama, is everything alright?” Tetsuya looks to the nightstand, thinks of the knife that’s no longer there.

He forgot to ask Kagami for a replacement.

“Yes.” He calls back. “I just stumbled over the carpet. There’s a long pause, as though the guard is unsure if he should ask to come in.

“I thought I heard a voice.”

“That was me.” Tetsuya says with a deathly flat voice. “Apologies for the disturbance. I am going to bed now.” The silence behind his door is pregnant with implications, but in the end his word suffices to silence the curious guard. He might be only a pawn, he might not even be in Akashi’s favor, but he _is_ the Imperial consort.

Kagami doesn’t come back after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He doesn’t sleep well that night. He wakes from a nightmare, bathed in sweat, but can’t remember what it was about. Elusive images haunt him every time he closes his eyes and it takes hours for him finally fall back to sleep. It feels like barely a second passed before he is woken by Ayame’s gentle voice and sunlight on his face.

“Good morning, Kuroko-sama.” She greets cheerfully. “Have you rested well?” Among his servants, she is the most cheerful and outgoing, albeit in a subtler and less intrusive way than Kise so often is. She has long black hair; she usually wears in a long braid on her right side. She’s rather small and rather frail, the complete opposite of long stiff Sumire with her carefully crafted bun.  

“Yes.” Tetsuya replies, the same as every morning, regardless of his actual state. She can tell, by the looks she gives him, but she never calls him out on it. Ayame smiles and bends over the bed to pull off the cover. She had been the one to find him sleeping on the floor after that night. She had seen the state of the bed and she had made as little a deal out of it as possible, ushering him into the bathroom into the hands of her colleagues with resolute words and quietly changed the sheets. Ever since then she had taken it upon herself to make his bed anew every day.

It doesn’t ease the feeling of phantom touches that sometimes still clings to his skin, but it helps to know his bed is clean when he falls into it at night.

Sumire, one of the other two handmaids, is already waiting with a silken robe she holds out for him to slip in. Sumire is the complete opposite of Ayame, in that she is strict and courteous to a fault, perfectly deferential with none of Ayame’s lighthearted personality to smooth the cold edges.

“My mother used to make me hot cocoa before I went to bed.” Ayame says lightly from behind him. Sumire gives her a disapproving look but doesn’t dare to speak up. “She would put in this special ingredient, it’s called vanilla, maybe your highness has heard of it? It did wonders to put me to sleep. I still have the recipe; if Kuroko-sama would like, I could bring some tonight? It’s a flavor right from heaven” She makes it sound casual, but it is fairly obvious what she is trying to convey.

“Ayame.” Sumire stands up abruptly. “You may help Shion with the bathwater. I will take care of the rest here.” Ayame stops in her tracks, confusion lining her face as she looks from Sumire to Tetsuya.

“I’m sure Kuroko- _dono_ would like to take his bath soon.” Sumire, for all her usual submissive demeanor, suddenly sounds very much assertive and snappy.

Ayame gives her a somewhat annoyed glance, but puts down the sheet she was pulling on. “Sure.” She slips off the bed and walks past them, but pauses next to Tetsuya. “I’ll bring you some later.” She says warmly and leaves, Sumire’s scowl deepens.

“Apologies, Kuroko-dono.” She says with a small bow. “Your bath has been prepared for you, if Kuroko-dono has any additional wishes, please let me know.”

Tetsuya accepts her words and follows Ayame to take his morning bath. He’s gotten used to their intrusion into his privacy. They never comment or make him uncomfortable, even when they uncovered the marks of his wedding night, they remained respectful.

It’s only then, in the comfort of hot water and Ayame’s mindless chatter that Tetsuya allows himself a melancholic thought. He remembers vanilla, remembers it as the scent that always clung to his mother, the scent of the sweet drink she liked to drink and share with him.

He just can’t remember the taste anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of Akashi’s personal messengers is waiting for him in his living room when he’s finished with his bath.

Freshly bathed and dressed, with breakfast in near sight, he already feels better, but the feeling plummets as soon as he spots the man. He wears the standard uniform of an Imperial courier, but he only bears the insignias of a palace messenger.

He carries the faintest of sneers, nose upturned as though he thinks his work beneath him, but his voice is impeccably polite.

“Akashi-sama expects you to partake in today’s court meeting. Afterwards, you are expected to have lunch with his Imperial Majesty. I am to escort you. The court meeting starts in an hour, please prepare yourself as you see fit until then.” The messenger bows stiffly and then looks expectantly at him.

Tetsuya acknowledges the message with a nod, which doesn’t seem quite what was expected, as the man pulls a somewhat sour look. But he bows again and retreats into Tetsuya’s reception room.

He has to hurry up with his breakfast, as he has yet to change into his formal wear. What he wears during his own private time is completely up to his decision, as Akashi generally does not seem to care about his wardrobe. But there is a strict protocol in place for what to wear on official occasions.

They dress him in a formal robe, similar in cut to the one Akashi wears in office. It’s held in a deep saturated shade of purple, stitched with yellow and white poppies as opposed to the usual theme of lilies and lotuses. Thankfully, it’s lighter and easier to move around in, than most of his other formal clothes.

The messenger leads him through the same set of corridors Kise did last time, but unlike the blond, he doesn’t fill the silence with chatter. He’s avoided thinking about Kise, or any of the other guards for that matter, but he can’t escape their presence forever. And he can’t help but wonder how it will be to face them, to face Akashi, again, after what happened.

It’s been a week, but Tetsuya doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready.

He’s led into the court hall, a room Kise had shown him before on their tour. The room is rather large and can be reached from either the main hall through the large front doors or the throne room through a small side door. A huge table overlooks the farthest end of the room, with seats for the Emperor and his close advisors. The ministers have their own seats along the wall, leaving a space in the middle. Anyone who speaks in front of the council must walk down between the line of ministers and their attendants, before finally standing before the Emperor himself.

This is where the fate of the Empire is decided, where trials are held and where war and peace are weighed against each other. It’s the center of the Imperial power, helmed by Akashi Seijuro, 24th Emperor of the Rakuzan line. Almost everyone here is driven by ambition - for one thing or another.

Most of the seats are already filled, safe for the Emperor’s, when Tetsuya enters. The room falls quiet instantly. All eyes are on him, when he walks down the length of the room, towards the seat the messenger indicated was his.

The silence doesn’t last long though. Whispered words follow his entrance, as everyone opts to share their opinion about the new Queen. The noise they make is more likely to a busy beehive than a council of sophisticated men.

Every minister had come with his own set of subordinates, attendants or counselors, or any position one could think of. One even has his own personal fan wielder. Tetsuya has spent a lot of time in the library reading up on the recent history of the Empire. At first there had only been a few ministries, forming a small circle of advisors around the Emperor. In time, more and more minister positions had been awarded, either out of necessity or as payment for loyalty. Many of these positions had been abolished under Akashi’s recent predecessors, but the core bulk remained.

What was left was the Great Council of State and a few smaller less significant ministries, but although they held quite significant power in name, most if was essentially void.  

Tetsuya has made an effort to memorize their names and the insignia that identify the different ministries and offices.

The Chancellor of the Realm, an old man that seems to use all of his strength just to sit up straight, greets him with a smile so fragile it seems to be made from paper. He is the only one who makes an effort to greet him. Tetsuya remembers reading he used to be Akashi’s teacher when he was younger.

“Good day to you, Kuroko-kun.” He says, as though they had been friends for years.

Tetsuya pauses. The Chancellor is seated right next to the Emperor’s table on the right. “A good day to you too, your Excellency.”

As though a spell has been broken, most of the men return to their prior conversations. The chief administrator of the Ministry of Civil Services, according to his insignias, turns back to talk to his neighbor, the chief administrator of the Ministry of Treasury.

The chancellor frowns. “There’s no reason to be so formal, Kuroko-kun.” He says with his paper-thin voice. Tetsuya finds himself faced with the sudden urge to laugh. There might be no need, but that doesn’t mean he has any right to. He nods regardless.

The chancellor smiles. “Sit down, sit down. Seeing you standing around makes my old bones ache.”

The man two seats down his left starts laughing, friendly on the surface, but Tetsuya can see the cold glint in his eyes. The chief administrator of the Ministry of the Center, once a position that held great power and influence, is now little more than a fancy title with a few privileges and little to no power attached. The man has a lot of reasons to resent Akashi.

He leans forward to look at the Chancellor. “I’m sure Fujiwara-san will outlive us all.” It’s intended to be a joke, but he can’t quite hide the bitterness that creeps into his voice.

“Most definitely.” The Chancellor - Fujiwara-san - says cheerfully, not at all attempting to deny it. The minister of the Center pulls his lips into a thin line and leans back in his seat. His attendants immediately start muttering into his ear.

“My my, Fujiwara-san, aren’t you a ball of sunshine today.” A thin man with rat-like features says. He laughs quietly but high-pitched, pulling his sleeve in front of his face as he does. His robes are embroidered with the sigil of the ministry of Ceremonies.

“Well, what can I say,” the Chancellor says with another smile. “Someone has to remind you lot of the greater values in life.” The minister of Ceremonies laughs again, the high-pitched sound echoing through the room and garnering more than a few annoyed glances. The minister of the Center scowls heavily, but doesn’t speak up again.

“Kuroko-san.” The man between the Chancellor and the minister of Ceremonies leans forward to get his attention. He’s the youngest by far among the ministers, handsome face and that’s not the only thing that makes him stand out among his peers. His eyes behind his spectacles seem to be in a permanent squint. He remembers seeing him on the day of the wedding at the banquet; he was the one who greeted them on their way out. The sigils on his sleeve identify him as the chief administrator of the Ministry of the Military.

“Congratulations to your successfully consummated marriage.” His smile turns even more cheerful, and a cool shiver chases down Tetsuya’s spine. He catches a glance of the man’s eyes, cool and calculating. This man, and there he has absolutely no doubt, is dangerous.

“Imayoshi-san.” the rat-faced minister of Ceremonies says. He seems to be trying to emulate Imayoshi’s perfectly fake smile, but fails miserably. “Don’t embarrass our dear _Queen_.” This time he isn’t the only one who laughs.

Tetsuya levels Imayoshi with an even look. “Thank you very much, Imayoshi-kun.” He doesn’t inflect specifically on the last syllable, but the meaning is still evident. Fujiwara may have broken protocol first, but he has senior rights. Tetsuya is merely a newcomer. Imayoshi’s eyes flutter open, a sliver of grey focuses on Tetsuya with the sharp intensity of a snake. Tetsuya doesn’t look away. It’s hard to read Imayoshi, his posture is overall relaxed and his smile serves as the perfect mask. But Tetsuya thinks he sees Imayoshi afford the slightest of nods in respect.

The door opens at that moment and everyone, from slacker rat-face to old Fujiwara-san straightens up as Akashi Seijuro, 24th Emperor of the Rakuzan line walks into the room. He is followed by Midorima and Murasakibara, and Tetsuya’s heart does an odd and painful little flip, he has no idea what to make of. But he has no time to wade through his clouded feelings right now.

Akashi’s eyes roam over the room; linger for the fraction of a second on him, before moving on. Tetsuya feels a chill settle in his chest. Only years of practice allow him to remain seated and keep his face in its impassive mask, when all he wants to do is bolt.

Akashi takes his place next to Tetsuya. Midorima sits on Akashi’s other side and Murasakibara stands behind them. Tetsuya is glad that neither of them pays him any more mind than that.

Even with the attention pulled away from him completely by Akashi commencing the meeting, he barely keeps it together.

Tetsuya tries to focus on what’s being said, but he isn’t familiar with many of the terms and issues, but even though, listening to problems that aren’t his own helps. Even if Imayoshi keeps throwing him glances he can’t interpret, even if he feels the minister of the Center’s eyes on him like a slimy touch.

Everything is better than to think of what happened between him and the people sitting next to him.

Needless to say, it’s a long day ahead of him

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The court meeting doesn’t come up with anything noteworthy, but that isn’t a surprise to Seijuro. He’s mainly held it to test Tetsuya, and so far he’s been holding up well enough. His face doesn’t give anything away, as usual, but when prompted for his opinion, which Fujiwara did a few times on Seijuro’s behalf, his answers were satisfactory enough. Lacking in experience obviously, but that was to be expected.

But that wasn’t the main reason Seijuro invited Tetsuya to participate. While Midorima heads the meeting itself, Seijuro takes the opportunity to observe. He takes stock of the men’s reaction to Tetsuya, pinpointing just who exactly hoped to benefit from this marriage. He obviously knows which of his ministers were involved in the proposition, but he knows better than to assume everyone played on the same field.

No, some were just pawns to ward of suspicions and he plans on finding out just who the main culprits are. Tetsuya might turn out an asset more than a burden, but he won’t allow his ministers to think they can do whatever they please.

He knows Suzuki Jurou, his minister of the Center, has had a hand in the matter, and he certainly has a motive, but he is essentially a coward who likes to hide in a crowd. He also lacks the tactical prowess to have laid the foundations for this plan, although his intelligence is not to be underestimated. Someone else must have pulled the strings behind his back. His reactions to Tetsuya had been little else than his usual antagonizing nature however.

The most obvious suspect is Watanabe Jun, as he was the one who first proposed the marriage to Seijuro, but where Suzuki at least has his studious intelligence to speak for him, his minister of the Imperial Household is simply an idiot. Seijuro concludes he is little more than a pawn.

Chancellor Fujiwara is trustworthy, so is the minister of the Military, although the latter chooses to be a pain in the ass most of the time. Which makes him think that maybe it is time to put that annoyingly sharp wit to some use.

The minister of Civil Services, Shirogane Eiji and the minister of the Treasury, Harasawa Katsunori are both from houses loyal to the Rakuzan line, and aside from being way too laid back about too many things and a tendency to bicker among themselves a lot of the time, when they should be working, well, there is not much else to say, aside from that they never gave Seijuro reason to distrust them. Both of them did voice reservations regarding the engagement, although neither openly opposed the notion. He will keep an eye on them.

The minister of Ceremonies, Kobayashi Masayuki is a constant source of nuisance and he is the one who paid the most attention to Tetsuya. He was never a subtle man, his schemes had little finesse and he is too absorbed in his small time feuds to pay attention to the big picture. Seijuro rules him out as the mastermind, but not entirely as a suspect. He openly voiced support for the proposal, so there is that.

That leaves the minister of Justice, Oshiro Masanori and the minister of Taxation, Nakano Arata. Both ambitious men in their own rights. Although Oshiro seems mostly interested and ultimately restricted to the juristic system of the Empire. He seldom shows interest in anything else but the law. Nakano is an entirely different story however. Outspoken and choleric at times, he has made it clear that he holds Seijuro’s heritage against him, in not so many words, but Seijuro can read between the lines. He was also involved in the proposition and Seijuro suspects a collaboration between him and Suzuki.

There is still a puzzle piece missing, as Suzuki and his strict religious views that overlap with Nakano’s disdain for his person, would exclude Tetsuya, who hails from a clan of renowned non believers after all, as a suitable consort. But then again, this certainly wasn’t about suitability.

Seijuro’s thoughts are still occupied with that when he and Tetsuya have lunch. This time, he ordered the servants to serve them in one of the smaller dining halls in the palace’s main tract, as it is closer to the court hall.

Tetsuya is silent throughout the meal, which isn’t unusual, but Seijuro notes how he avoids looking anywhere in his general direction.

“You are bothered.” Seijuro shares his observation, without really meaning to. Tetsuya’s eyes widen a fraction, surprise, and for a moment the image is in superposition with another image in Seijuro’s mind, of Tetsuya’s face flushed red and wanton, an image that has no value to him, yet he finds it ingrained irrevocably in his memories. He will ponder later what to make of this strange reaction he has to Tetsuya at times.

Tetsuya sizes him up for a moment, undoubtedly searching for the intent beyond that statement. His eyes, Seijuro notes, have a tired sheen to them.

“I am far from my home and family.” Tetsuya finally says in response and drops his eyes back to the table.

The members of his personal guards all have other duties to attend to at the moment, so they are eating alone this time, Reo watches over them instead.

Seijuro turns Tetsuya’s response over in his head, thinks of what Tetsuya revealed that night a week ago. It is hard to tell with Tetsuya, as he has perfect control over his features, but Seijuro always had a sort of sixth sense when it came to detecting lies. And if that sense didn’t fool him, then Tetsuya wasn’t lying. At least, not outright.

“Your family does not seem to care much for your absence.” He turns back to his food, but keeps a very sharp eye out for Tetsuya’s reaction.

He gets a glimpse of steel and ice, when Tetsuya’s eyes glacier. Seijuro supposes it must be Tetsuya’s equivalent of anger.

“My _family_ does care.” Tetsuya only allows for inflection on the word family, giving Seijuro new fruit for thought. Seijuro feels the familiar burn in his left eye, as the Emperor Eye activates, his ability to read, not so much the future but the details that lead to it. He fights the urge to blink, focusing instead at the pieces of the puzzle that present itself in front of his mind’s eye. So much is still missing.

“Your family,” Seijuro echoes. He carefully puts down his fork and levels the entire intensity of his Emperor Eye on Tetsuya. Tetsuya shudders and looks away.

“I wouldn’t know who that is.” A muscle in Tetsuya’s jaw tightens, subtle but nevertheless telling. “I suppose the kind of people who are willing to take in the unwanted child of the Teikou must be rather special.” Tetsuya’s eyes flicker up to him for a fraction, but they are repelled just as fast by the intensity of Seijuro’s gaze.

Seijuro clasps his hands together. “The Teikou are currently ruled by Lady Shirai Naomi, whose daughter died of an unknown cause, before she could inherit the title. According to my sources you are the oldest son of Shirai Naomi’s daughter, yet you are not the successor. You haven’t even inherited her name; instead you have the name of a bastard child.” Tetsuya’s eyes are as clear as the summer sky; the steel is gone, now there’s just the slippery surface of a frozen pond. Even his Emperor Eye can’t penetrate the frozen layers.

He doesn’t need to, to know Tetsuya has understood his implication. Bastards can’t inherit titles anywhere else in the Empire, unless legitimized, but the Teikou always followed their own rules, not just when it came to succession.

“I’ve investigated your claim, and it turns out you _are_ my cousin.” His father’s cousin had confessed the shameful truth on his deathbed, years after the child’s birth. Seijuro’s father had revoked any and all relation to his cousin, but blood was blood. Tetsuya may be illegitimate, but he is of Rakuzan blood. Seijuro resents his late father for leaving him in the dark.

“Your family chose peace and privacy over all the power they could have tried to claim with your heritage. Giving up their only claim to the throne.” Akashi has no doubt in his own ability at wielding the power in his hands, but even so, had he been in the Teikou’s position, he would have taken the power for himself. Still, Tetsuya didn’t lie.

“You are wrong about one thing.” Tetsuya says simply, eyes still locked on the half-empty plate before him. “My grandmother died, my brother has succeeded her.” There’s a note in his voice, fragility maybe, or the brittle heart of a frozen tear.

Seijuro narrows his eyes. The news must at least be older than Tetsuya’s departure from home, yet Seijuro hasn’t yet heard a thing about it. Spies tend to disappear and never return, once send to the Teikou, but still. The Teikou traded, like anyone else did. The news should have reached him by now. Tetsuya has no reason to lie, and even if he did, his eye would see through all lies.

A grandmother, especially a matriarch with the reputation of Shirai Naomi, might scorn her grandchild for reasons aplenty, but a brother, Tetsuya might have hoped would heed the bands of blood. A foolish sentiment, no doubt.

Another puzzle piece in place.

The oldest child of the current family head is the heir of the line, regardless of gender or parentage, this rule had been active ever since the early beginnings of the Teikou. So why is Tetsuya different? A rule that has never been broken before, as far as Seijuro knows. Aspirations run in every family, Tetsuya’s grandmother wanted his brother as her heir, his brother wanted to be successor, a very common predicament.

“Now tell me,” The burn in his left eye is almost unbearable now, pulling the world into a slightly off-kilter blur, its limit already reached, “why are you still alive?”

This time the surprise isn’t small, at least not for Tetsuya’s usual stoic mimic. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open slightly, but then the expression morphs into one of pain and sadness. Tetsuya lifts his hand, but halts it halfway, an aborted movement without a goal. He drops it back to his lap.

“What makes you think I am?” Tetsuya finally says, voice hollow and devoid of emotion.

For a moment Seijuro thinks he sees a shadow of death lying over Tetsuya. He thinks of the scar Kise told him about, the scar that should have killed him.

He thinks about a lot of things that night.


	6. Secrets

Tetsuya is shaken. More so than he has reason to, more so than he should ever allow himself to be. But Akashi had hit bull’s eye with deadly precision. Thinking back to those eyes that seemed to see everything, every painful truths he’d tried to hide, every secret, every part of his being had laid open to his look,

For lack of better options, Tetsuya puts it out of his mind. He’d allowed himself to grow compliant over the last week, nursing his woes instead of doing what he came here for. So that night, after he’d spent the afternoon in restless unease, he finally decides to put the first part of his plan into action.

He finishes dinner quietly in his rooms and then allows his handmaids to fuss over him some more, before he indicates he’d like to spend the rest of the night reading. Ayame brings him, as promised, a cup of steaming hot vanilla cocoa. Sumire glares but doesn’t say anything, as he carefully takes the first sip.

He’s never had hot cocoa before, as cocoa is quite rare and expensive. The texture of it is unfamiliar, smooth and heavy and its taste is rich and sweet. It blends perfectly with the soft flavor of vanilla, a flavor he recognizes, despite the years that have passed. The memory it sparks almost brings tears to his eyes. He still doesn’t remember her face or even the sound of her voice, but for a moment he thinks he can hear his mother laugh, while the faint scent of vanilla wafts through the air.

The memory passes and he’s back in his bedroom, a cup of hot cocoa in hands. The taste of vanilla is fleeting on his tongue.

“With this, you’ll sleep like a rock.” Ayame confides in him and takes the cup from his hands after he’d finished. Tetsuya doesn’t tell her that it’s not sleep he’s after.

Shion pulls his night clothes from his wardrobe and offers them to him. At this point, undressing in front of his three handmaids has become routine. It probably shouldn’t be, but it’s not as though he has much choice on the matter. Rejecting the efforts of his servants would be ungrateful, as much as he wants to. Sumire helps him out of his robes, before folding them to be put away and laundered later.

Shion had stocked his wardrobe with a more diverse selection of clothes than dresses and robes, after he had come back from the gardens with one too many torn silk garments. She’d done it with the same quiet attention she paid to everything she did. She rarely speaks, but she seems to have an even keener eye to his subtle needs than Ayame. While Ayame and Sumire are polar opposites in just about anything, Shion is somewhere in the middle. She’s taller than Ayame but doesn’t reach up to Sumire; she wears her hair rather short and usually prefers simple practical clothing.

Tetsuya pulls on the loose fitting pair of pants - smooth linen and no silk - before he pulls the shirt from the same material over his head. The garment is a bit too big on him, but he can tighten it with drawstrings. Shion kneels to tie the drawstrings on his pants, when something pricks his side.

It’s just a small jab of pain and Tetsuya thinks nothing of it, until it happens again. Shion makes to straighten his shirt, but Tetsuya stops her. He shifts until he can reach the offending area and pulls out a glinting piece of metal from the seam of the shirt.

Ayame gasps. “Is that a needle?” She reaches out to take it from Tetsuya’s hand, but stops when she remembers who she’s dealing with. “Forgive me.” She bows slightly. “May I?” Tetsuya is done with inspecting the needle himself and hands it over to her. “Oh dear, one of the seamstresses must have forgotten it.” Ayame purses her lips.

“We need to tell Momoi-sama.” Sumire says tightly. “This is inexcusable.”

“I’m sure it was just an accident.” Ayame’s lips curl downward in an unhappy frown. She twiddles the needle in her fingers.

“Even so.” Sumire says, voice hard, “Kuroko-dono could have been seriously injured.” She affects an apologetic smile in Tetsuya’s direction, oddly candid for once.

Ayame winces momentarily, as her fiddling caused her to prick herself and she puts down the needle on the table.

His fear it might have been poisoned had been unwarranted, but Tetsuya can’t quite belief it was an accident. Still, he doubts that one of the seamstresses was responsible; they have no reason to resent him. Besides, they would be the first and obvious suspects. Either it truly was an accident, or someone likes to play pranks on him.

“There’s no need for that, please.” Tetsuya tries a reassuring smile. “I’m alright. I’m sure it was just an accident.” Sumire looks as though she wants to protest, but Shion stops her with a gentle touch to her arm.

“I’ll tell the seamstresses to be more careful next time, is that alright?” Ayame offers and Sumire seems placated.

“Forgive my carelessness, Kuroko-dono.” Shion says quietly and bows. “I will accept any punishment your highness sees fit.”

Tetsuya lets himself sink into one of the plush armchairs rounding the table. He hasn’t touched the chair Akashi had been using since that night, but there is only so far he can flee from his ghosts.

“That is not necessary.” Tetsuya says evenly and Shion accepts it with a quiet bow.

Neither of them notices when Tetsuya swipes the needle from the table and hides it in his sleeve.

His maids eventually retreat, leaving him to his nightly reading. Tetsuya goes through his training menu, stretching and bending until his muscles are loose and warm, and then he follows up with a complex set of exercises, Aida compiled for him. He gives it a few hours into darkness, before he gets up and dons the clothes he’s lifted from the laundry room over the week. He has a creeping suspicion Shion, who is in charge of his wardrobe, noticed, but instead of clearing his acquisitions out, she saw fit to add a pair of boots and gloves.

Just because she decided to help him out doesn’t mean she didn’t tell on him, but there really is no use in worrying about that now. The clothes he’s picked are dark and fit tight. The boots are high shafted and made from what appears to be deerskin. The fabric has been died a dark grey, similar to the color of his gloves. He didn’t find anything proper to cover his head, so Tetsuya goes with one of the many shawls to wrap up his brightly colored hair.

Lastly, he pins the needle into the fabric of his sleeve, from where he can pull it easily enough, should the need arise. A weapon is a weapon is a weapon, and in Tetsuya’s case, his proficiency increases lineally to the decrease of his weapon’s size. Or as Kagami likes to put it, his deadliest weapon is none at all.

As a final touch, Tetsuya arranges some of the seating pillows from his living room under his blanket to fool anyone who might check on him into believing he’s sound asleep. It won’t withstand an attentive eye, but Tetsuya doesn’t expect anyone to disturb his sleep anyway. It’s merely a precaution.

The window latch is still broken, as no one has paid enough attention to the window to notice it. It’s just so much like Kagami, managing to sneak in through his window unnoticed, but break the latch anyway. The thought of Kagami pings painfully in his chest, but Tetsuya doesn’t allow the distraction to take hold.

Tetsuya slips on the windowsill and pulls the window closed behind him. It won’t lock due to the broken latch, but the curtains should suffice to hold it closed. The ancient stone wall has been roughened up by weather and Tetsuya finds plenty of hand- and footholds on his descent. He hits ground only moments later.

The whole palace and its yard are surrounded by a curtain wall that separates the Emperor’s residence from the rest of the city. The wall is patrolled by guards, all hours of the day, but inside the palace walls, only a few nightly patrols disturb the peace.

There really isn’t anything out there that Akashi fears.

Tetsuya makes his way through the shadows, following the palace wall to his right. A few spots of torchlight in the distance signify the positions of patrols, but as Kagami said, security is almost nonexistent. Light spills from a window above him - Akashi’s rooms, if he counted the distance correctly. He could climb up there and… do what exactly?

Tetsuya shakes the thought from his mind.

A few paces down, he reaches the inseam of the West wing building that leads back to the main tract.

Somewhere to his right lies the forbidden palace, the residence of Akashi’s concubines. He’s seen glimpses of it from his one excursion to the Northern high tower, surrounded by a wall of its own that is grown over with poisonous ivy to keep any and all intruders away. A special branch of the palace guard is responsible for the mistresses’ security.

Previous Emperors have been known to wildly indulge in their private harem, but the practice has decreased drastically since Akashi’s grandfather. According to rumors, Akashi has never even set foot into his secret garden of pleasures.

For all their privilege, for the concubines, it must be a lot like a prison.

A pair of outbuildings is nestled right in the corner where West wing meets central tract. Tetsuya climbs on the roof of one of them to reach a window he knows leads into a small unused storage room. He unlocked the window earlier today, after slipping away from his tail of guards and then later claiming he had merely gotten lost. He also used the opportunity to snatch and hide a small hand lamp for later use. Not all parts of the palace can be reached by sunlight, and those that can’t are pitch black during nights.

Tetsuya slips into the dark room without a sound. He listens for a moment at the door to make sure there’s no one on the other side, before he slips through. The corridor behind is dark and empty, but Tetsuya has committed the layout of the palace’s interior to memory. He follows well-honed instincts when he makes his way down the corridor, through doors and down a small staircase until he reaches one of the few unsealed entries into the hidden underground network spanning the entirety of the palace. He found a map during his hours in the library, ancient and close to disintegrating in his hands, but not much should have changed since the network’s construction.

Of course, reality rarely concedes with expectations. Tetsuya finds many corridors and tunnels sealed off. While most seem done by ancient hands, a few blockades seem rather new and recent. It would be delusional to assume Akashi isn’t aware of the network that perforates his palace. Tetsuya shakes off the feeling of being trapped. For once, the thought of being absolutely alone down here, is scary.

Eventually, Tetsuya reaches the end of the tunnel, where it hits the North wing wall. As he feared, there is no tunnel connecting into the North wing, but there is a small spiral staircase that leads upwards. The North wing had been constructed a few generations after the original palace, and he had found no maps that indicated it was ever included into the underground tunnel network.

The same is true for his and Akashi’s rooms, but Tetsuya has a very strong suspicion that there’s at least a hidden escape tunnel that leads from their rooms. Although he has yet to find proof.

For lack of better options, Tetsuya descends the staircase.

It leads to what looks like one of the servants’ corridors that span the old palace tracts. After a bit of orienting, Tetsuya determines he’s close to the main corridor that runs right through the common residential area of the North wing.

Tetsuya has a rough idea of the position of the minister’s rooms. Another corridor branches off from the central corridor, leading into the part of the wing that is reserved for the higher standing court officials with large families. The area for ministers and officials without or with small families is directly above.

Tetsuya climbs the stairs to the next floor. He has no real idea where to start or with whom, but families usually mean small children with light sleep. Small branch-offs lead in between the rooms and connect to the main corridor in intervals, but Tetsuya’s instinct tells him that there’s more hidden in these corridors than meets the eye. And indeed, after some very careful searching and probing, he finds a small inlet in the wall that turns out to be a hidden door into the room behind. The first two are sealed in with a viscous substance Tetsuya fails to pry out with his fingers alone. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, if he had a knife with him, but the needle does little more than poke a few holes in it.

Next time, he should bring some tools with him.

The seal on the third door seems to have dried out and is cracked in many places. It peels away easily under Tetsuya’s fingers and soon he has freed the entrance. He shoves the mess of cracked plaster under the carpet in an attempt to hide his presence. It’s a provisional solution, but right now Tetsuya has limited options.

In the center of the door is a small hole, sealed with the same material than the door cracks were, and with a bit of needle picking, he’s cleared it enough to look through. The room behind is a reception room. The room itself is similar to the one in Tetsuya’s chambers, albeit significantly smaller. Light falls in through the half open door into the main rooms, and Tetsuya thinks he can make out faint voices.

If, and only _if_ he extrapolated his position correctly, this is Minister Suzuki Jurou’s room. He could be way off the course though.

Tetsuya hesitates. He can’t search the rooms, if people are there, but he might be able to get some valuable information if he listens in. The decision is made for him when Tetsuya makes out the word ‘Teikou’ from one of the voices. Regardless of who the owner is, this is something he doesn’t want to miss.

It’s risky and his mentor would probably have his head, but Tetsuya knows he can count on people invariably overlooking him when they shouldn’t. With that more than fickle reasoning, Tetsuya very carefully slides open the door. Thankfully, the door isn’t hinged; bur noiselessly slides to the side. Last thing he needs right now, is a squeaky hinge to give him away.

Tetsuya slips in quietly. The door closes seamlessly into the wall and Tetsuya memorizes the position, before he moves further in. He finds a relatively safe spot behind a chaise lounge, close to the half open door.

“…not going to make their move, are they?” It takes a moment to place the voice, as Tetsuya has only ever heard it today for the first time, it is Minister Suzuki.

“Maybe they bide their time?” Someone else replies, an unfamiliar voice.

Their combined response is snorted laughter and then a third voice speaking up: “Please, that Shirai bitch never planned on going through with it.” The voice is familiar, but Tetsuya can’t quite place it.

“Well, dear Shirai Naomi bit the dust not two months back.” A fourth voice supplies with no small amount of smugness. This one Tetsuya can place immediately; it is Imayoshi Shouichi, the minister of the military.

“What? That can’t be. How have we never heard of that?” Suzuki says, with an angered undertone.

“Well,” Imayoshi drawls lazily, “ _I_ know that because I keep my eyes and ears open, which would serve you well too, every now and then. As for _how_ that could be, well old age does occasionally serve as cause of death, doesn’t it?”

“Keep your insolence to yourself.” Suzuki snaps. “How come we weren’t informed of this?”

“Because the Teikou never planned on usurping the throne; they merely wanted to get rid of that bastard child of theirs.” The third voice snarls, and now Tetsuya recognizes him as Nakano Arata, the minister of taxation. He had a penchant for sounding angry, no matter what it was he was saying.

“Why would they do that?” The second voice asks. “They could have had the throne.”

“How would I know?” Suzuki growls. “Who knows what goes on in their heads? Family of inbreeds, that is what they are.”

“Who’s the new head? Maybe they are more interested in an increase of their social position.”

“Don’t be stupid Sakurai. If they were, they would have made a move by now.” Suzuki is clearly irritated.

“I’m sorry.” Sakurai is quick to apologize. He is largely ignored.

“I reckon the Teikou aren’t as thrilled to have dear Kuroko on the throne as we expected them to be.” Somehow Imayoshi doesn’t sound surprised - or perturbed for that matter - by the fact at all. Unwanted, a shiver runs down Tetsuya’s spine. Despite his usually pleasant tone, something about Imayoshi unfailingly sets him on edge.

“He’d be nothing more than a figure head.” Nakano grumbles. “Surely, the Teikou could control one of their own?”

“I think the real question is, would we be able to control the Teikou?” Imayoshi offers with the air of someone who just bestowed a profound truth to lesser beings.

His answer is begrudging silence.

“Everything has worked out for the best now, hasn’t it?” Imayoshi concludes cheerfully.

“The best?” Suzuki asks sharply, but is interrupted by Nakano’s outrage.

“That whore’s son is still on the throne and now his position is as secure as ever, thanks to the marriage. I told you we should have waited until he’s 25 and has to abdicate, because that frigid bastard would never take a wife.”

“Many a war has been won by doing nothing.” Imayoshi adds sardonically.

“This is getting us nowhere.” Suzuki cuts in icily. “The Teikou failed to hold up their end of the bargain.” There’s a short pause and some shuffling before Suzuki continues, “but I suppose there is little we can do about that. If Imayoshi is right and Naomi is dead, our agreement is void.” Suzuki sounds as though he has a hard time admitting that. “It doesn’t come as a complete surprise though. I have no doubt Naomi would have tried to screw us over, one way or another.”

“So what exactly are we going to do about that?” Nakano’s answer is silence. “What does _he_ say to all this?”

“Nothing.” Suzuki says bitterly.

“Now that’s interesting.” Imayoshi drawls. “Doesn’t have a backup plan, has he now?”

“I told you already, keep your insolence to yourself, Imayoshi- _kun_.” Suzuki snaps in response. ”He knows very well what he is doing. His silence must mean he wants us to take action. As it is, I see only one way out of this.”

Imayoshi seems little deterred. “Your wit never ceases to amaze me. And what exactly is it that you propose we do?”

“We do what the Teikou are too chicken to do.” Nakano, at least Tetsuya thinks it was him, slams a hand on the table.

“I suppose what you want to say, do what the Teikou are too smart to do?” Imayoshi’s contempt is rather thinly veiled this time.

“Watch your tongue, brat.” Nakano growls lowly. “Remember, we tolerate you, but you have yet to earn your place.”

For some reason Sakurai breaks out into frantic apologies, but is shut up moments later by a very annoyed sounding Suzuki.

“Regardless of your opinion, Imayoshi, something _will_ be done. I won’t stand for this _heathen_ on the throne any longer.”

Someone - Tetsuya guesses Imayoshi - sighs. “I trust you know what you do.”

“I do.” Suzuki says coolly. “Nakano and I will discuss the further details, you are dismissed.”

“I’m sorry.” Sakurai says, sounding very close to tears.

“Now come, Sakurai-kun, don’t make this any more embarrassing than it already is.” Imayoshi doesn’t sound embarrassed at all.

Tetsuya ducks behind the chaise lounge, using the shadows to mask his presence. He watches as Imayoshi walks briskly out of the living room, a man who must be Sakurai, trailing behind. Sakurai is a small unassuming man with wide frantic eyes who, in his hurry to catch up after Imayoshi, almost stumbles over his own feet.

Sakurai has closed the door behind them, and no matter how close he presses his ear to the wood, all he hears are faint indistinguishable murmurs. They must have lowered their voices.

Since there is little else for him to do Tetsuya retreats. He has to think over what he just heard and then, well then, he has to decide what he wants to do about it.

Tetsuya slips back into the secret corridor and picks up the lamp he had put down on the floor. His footsteps don’t make a sound as he follows the winding way of the corridor, back into the tunnel system.

It doesn’t come as a surprise that someone is after Akashi’s head. He is not a tyrant, but he is the culmination of a long process of depowering the court and shifting all the power to the Emperor. So far his decisions have worked to benefit the Empire, as it is thriving as it hasn’t in a long time. But economical prosperity must mean little to men whose only thirst is for power.

And there is the thing about Akashi being a heathen.

Religion used to be the center of the state, Emperor in the grace of gods, but Akashi has made it clear from early on that he doesn’t believe in a higher power, but himself. The wedding was an empty ceremony for both of them.

Tetsuya makes his way back to his rooms. Everything is as he has left it. He pulls off his clothes and hides them at the back of his wardrobe.

He doesn’t know if his conclusion is the right one, but as Suzuki said, there is little else they can do. One way or another, they will come after Akashi’s head.

He slips back into his night clothes and under the covers of his bed. He is tired, but his mind won’t let him come to rest.

He doesn’t know what measurements Suzuki and Nakano have in place to calm the situation after they take Akashi’s head. He doesn’t know about that mysterious he who pulls the strings from the shadows. Akashi’s death could lead to civil war easily enough. He’s a strict and absolute Emperor, but he is fair. Tetsuya doesn’t know how well loved Akashi is among the people, or if at all.

He knows so little.

But there is one thing he does know. He has to prevent the assassination at any cost. Akashi is his only chance to get what he wants.

He thinks of warning Akashi, but he has no proof. Akashi might not trust his ministers, but he has no reason to trust Tetsuya either. He’ll have to keep his eyes open.

Tetsuya falls asleep over the thought that Suzuki and Nakano might even decide to do nothing at all, and leave everything to whatever shadowy figure pulls their strings.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your wedding was your first and only religious act.” The voice is bored and borders on insolence, as per usual. “That doesn’t sit right with some people.”

The owner of the voice lounges in one of the chairs in Seijuro’s study, making it seem as though the hard wood isn’t nearly as uncomfortable as it is. It’s the early hours of the morning; the only light source is the lamp on his desk, casting irregular shadows on his paperwork.

Ever since the awakening of his left eye, Seijuro found his body’s need for sleep decreased. Now, he barely sleeps more than three or four hours per night, if at all.

“My power comes from myself, not from gods.”

His nightly visitor smirks. “Course it does. But powerless people like to have an excuse for their powerlessness.”

“And who could argue with divine intervention.” Seijuro allows himself a dry smile.

“In this case, though, I reckon they truly believe it.” He gives Seijuro a look over the rims of his glasses, grey eyes for once not shadowed by his perpetual squint. He’s toeing a thin line there, but if anything, the man is a master of his craft. “And our dear Suzuki-kun has taken it upon himself to rectify his god’s mistakes.”

Seijuro leans back in his high backed chair, prompting the man to continue with an expectant raise of his eyebrow.

He does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning comes with little on the side of solutions or revelations. Morning also comes with the arrival of Momoi Satsuki, who cheerfully greets him during breakfast and then proceeds to explain she is going to spend the day with him to introduce him to his various duties.

Tetsuya receives her enthusiasm with a polite nod and rearranges his plans in his head. Chance is, whatever move was planned won’t be carried out today - or any time soon for that matter - so he can use the opportunity to extract information from Momoi.

Since he hadn’t expected any official duties today, Tetsuya had dressed in a yukata and hakama, the compromise he’d agreed upon, as his status calls for formal traditional wear. When Ayame politely reminded him he needed to change, Momoi just waved her off. “I’m just showing Kuroko-sama around, I’m sure it’s fine.” She had said, and that had been that.

Momoi keeps up a similarly dense string of one sided conversation than Kise. Tetsuya tries to listen, but his thoughts keep drifting to what he’s heard the night before. He doesn’t know the specifics of the deal his grandmother made with Suzuki, but he knows she would have never intended to attempt a strike at Akashi. She hadn’t been interested in expanding her power over what she already had. No, Shirai Naomi’s interests had laid in an entire different direction.

Tetsuya feels the all too familiar shiver of cold travel down his spine when he thinks of his grandmother. Momoi, thankfully, doesn’t notice.

And that leaves his brother, who, for all the physical resemblance they share, still is mostly a mystery to Tetsuya. They never had been close, even before the fateful day of his fifth birthday, but that was mostly because they were kept apart intentionally. He was never meant to live past that day, so there was no need to have them grow close.

But he knows his brother is power hungry in a way Naomi never was. Tetsuya thinks back on what Hyuuga had said when they recovered Naomi’s body. Outwardly it seemed to have been natural cause, old age, heart failure, something like that. But the truth of the matter was that Shirai Naomi had barely scraped sixty. She’d suffered from a rather persistent cough since last winter, but other than that she’d been in prime health.

She hadn’t planned on relinquishing her power anytime soon, at least not before her grandson turned 25.

Hyuuga who had examined the body had found traces of outside influence, a slight discoloring on Naomi’s neck, something that could have been injection points. The reason they were there spoke against his brother, he wasn’t as clumsy as to leave traces.

Tetsuya still can’t make heads or tails of it. His brother is a snake; he could as well have left the marks there to send a message. Tetsuya just doesn’t know what and to whom.

The Seirin had fallen too far from favor to do anything more than keep their eyes open; his brother had seamlessly fallen into the role as leader. And shortly after, Tetsuya had been sent off to his wedding.

It takes Tetsuya a moment to realize Momoi has been addressing him.

“Kuroko-sama?” She has her head tilted to peek into his face, forehead slightly creased in worry.

“I’m sorry.” Tetsuya looks down. “I was distracted.” When he looks up again, he has put on his most convincing impression of earnestly apologetic he can muster, which amounts to him looking slightly less apathetic than usual.

Momoi smiles regardless. “I was just asking if Ki-chan has showed you your workspace yet?”

Tetsuya has to think a moment, before he realizes she means Kise. “No, he hasn’t.” He says quietly. Momoi clicks her tongue

“Ki-chan is such an airhead.” She smiles again, in an oddly affectionate manner. Tetsuya doesn’t know if it’s meant for him to see. “I will show you then.”

His workspace turns out to be a rather large room on the first floor, close to the junction of west wing and central tract. To call it workspace is actually an overstatement, as it turns out to be a lavishly decorated salon, complete with plush sofas, armchairs and oddly misplaced, laid out tatami mats at one side of the room.

“The last Queen liked to challenge her guests to karuta.” Momoi explains when she catches his gaze. The last Queen, that must have been Akashi’s mother. She was beloved among the people, but died when Akashi was still young.

“There is no official rule book to a Queen’s duty.” Momoi picks up her explanation. “Officially, you are the head of the court ladies, although your position is mostly formal. Most of the court ladies are the wives of ministers or other court officials, and a few are unmarried daughters of noble houses, there to learn how to be good wives.” Momoi pulls a face.

To Tetsuya there is nothing unusual to see a woman in a high court position such as steward, but he also knows that for the rest of the Empire, women often are of lesser worth than men. He wonders how much Momoi had to struggle to get where she is now.

“You also inhabit the position of First Mistress, although I would recommend you keep away from the forbidden palace.” Her expression shifts into one of sadness. “It’s not a good place to be.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence until Momoi finds back her cheer and continues. “Akashi-sama wants you to partake in court meetings as one of his advisors.” There’s the slightest hint of a frown on Momoi’s face, as though she herself isn’t quite sure what to make of that. It lasts only for a moment before she is back to smiling. “I think it means he has high hopes for you.”

That, at least is promising.

“But other than that, you can basically do what you want.” She indicates the room. “Lady Shiori used this room to receive petitioners and friends alike. Or she invited over the court ladies for tea and gossip.” Tetsuya recognizes the name as the name of Akashi’s mother, the late Empress Shiori. She was a very charitable person and would often speak in favor of the poor to her husband. She would also often visit the city to see where people needed help and such.”

Momoi’s smile is fond and her eyes are soft. She must have been very young when Shiori was still alive.

“She also organized banquets and celebrations, oversaw meal plans for the whole of the palace and had an eye on all of the palace’s supplies.” Momoi’s smile is excited. “But that’s what I was hired for, so you don’t have to worry about any of these things.”

Tetsuya listens but doesn’t comment. Momoi plops down onto one of the sofas.

“We left the room as it is, in Lady Shioriu’s honor, but it’s now yours to do as you please with. You can redecorate if you like. Some citizens have already petitioned to meet with Kuroko-sama, in hopes you pick up where Lady Shiori left off.” Momoi gives him a reassuring smile. “But it is up to you what you want to do.”

Tetsuya looks around the room. Truth be told, he hadn’t even thought about this part of his new position. He has never met Lady Shiori, but he can feel her presence in every detail of the room. She was a gentle person with a weak heart. Many had opposed Emperor Masaomi’s marriage to her, not just because of her health.

Momoi looks at him expectantly.

“I like it as it is.” Tetsuya says. He’s never met the Queen, but seeing this room that’s filled with so much warmth, even after all this time, he can’t think she was anything else but _good_.

Momoi seems relieved.

I would appreciate your help in acquainting myself with the new position.” Tetsuya bows slightly, more an inclination of his head, as befit of their difference in status. “Please take care of me.” It comes out blander than intended, but Momoi lights up all the same.

“Of course, Kuroko-sama. It would be an honor to assist you. Although,” Her face falls, “I am quite busy, I’m afraid I won’t be of much help to you.”

“It’s alright.” Tetsuya says.

She smiles and pushes a strand of her pink colored hair behind her ear. “If you want to, I could introduce you to the other court ladies?”

Tetsuya can think of better ways to spend his time, but Momoi’s smile is open and kind and Tetsuya thinks it might not be so bad at all.

“I would appreciate that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nakajima Yumi is an elderly lady with so much innate authority, Tetsuya feels the sudden urge to stand straight and salute. She musters him sternly after Momoi’s introduction, giving little away as to what she thinks of him.

Then, just as Tetsuya thinks how much her stern expression unpleasantly reminds him of his own grandmother, she breaks out into a warm smile. “It is a pleasure Kuroko-sama.” Her voice is soft and warm, the same warmth that now plays in her eyes. She reaches for his hands and lightly squeezes them in greeting.

Tetsuya can’t quite hide his surprise.

“Nakajima-san has been overlooking the court ladies ever since Lady Shiori’s death.” Momoi offers in explanation.

“Herding a coop of chicken, would be more accurate.” Nakajima says with a smile that makes the skin around her eyes crinkle up. Momoi coughs awkwardly.

“Satsuki, coughing like that doesn’t befit a lady of your status.” She lectures sternly, but the slight crinkle around her eyes, still gives her away.

Momoi peeks out her tongue. Nakajima just laughs and whaps her playfully with her fan. The two women seem to share a very comfortable routine, as Momoi dodges the attack easily enough, trying hard not to laugh herself.

“Now,” Nakajima says after Momoi has collected herself, “how about I show Kuroko-sama around, while you go back to work?” Although the question is addressed to Momoi, they both look at Tetsuya for confirmation. It makes him feel somewhat awkward so he just nods his affirmative.

“Alright. Kuroko-sama, I leave you in Nakajima-san’s care. You can send for me, if you need help with anything.”

Tetsuya nods and then turns to Nakajima. Momoi excuses herself and leaves. “Please take care of me.” He offers with the same polite half bow he has given Momoi earlier.

Nakajima frowns at him. “There is no need for such politeness, don’t you think? You may be Queen, but technically I am your senpai.” There’s that faint dance of a smile around her eyes again, and Tetsuya feels its infectious tendencies. “How about I call you Tetsuya? I am sure none of the other oafs around here do, and it would be a shame if you were to forget your own name, eh sage one?”

Tetsuya allows himself to give in to the smile tugging at his lips. It affects little more than a slight twitch of his lips, but Nakajima’s sharp eyes don’t seem to miss a thing. He doesn’t tell her that his name is spelled in katakana.

“Alright then, don’t tell Satsuki. She doesn’t look it, let alone sound it, but she would rather rip out her own hair then to upset the social order around here.” She shakes her head. “She’s a good girl, but sometimes I wonder where she has her head. Oh, and don’t think of calling me anything else than Yumi.”

Tetsuya merely nods. It doesn’t seem Nakajima expects a reply from him to anything she said, and he’s glad, because he wouldn’t know what to offer. He’s not used to the brand of motherly affection she seems to so easily bestow on others. He isn’t even sure if it is what can be called motherly.

“Say, do you play karuta?” Nakajima waves him to follow her out of her rooms, where Momoi had brought him to meet her.

“No.” Tetsuya declines. HIs grandmother had played, but Tetsuya never had the opportunity.

“A shame. It is a game of wit and mental skill, but most think it is merely a pretty pastime for bored housewives.” She allows herself a wry smile. “I used to play with Lady Shiori, but she was an unmatched player, unlike any other. I tried to teach the young hens how to play, but all that fits in their head are husbands and the newest fashion at court.” She side eyes him. “They’ve been dying to meet you, mostly to have a new vaneto follow.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be of much use in that matter.” Tetsuya offers quietly. He doubts his preference for practical clothing could serve as a fashion trend.

Nakajima snorts very unladylike. “Don’t say that. The poor things had to decide their own trends for sixteen years, ever since Lady Shiori died, they would follow a lamppost if it were crowned Queen.”

Her face softens then. “But they are good girls, each in their own right. I just wished they would try and think for themselves every now and then. I try to nudge them in the right direction, but I am just an old lady with a horrid fashion sense.” She looks down at her own simple kimono. “In my time, kimonos were all the rage.” She throws him a glance. “Not that you would know about that.” Her eyes wrinkle in another deep smile.

Tetsuya inclines his head in lieu of answering. He decides he likes Nakajima Yumi. She could rival Kise or Momoi in running conversation, but there is something about her that Tetsuya never knew he wanted to be close to.

They have reached another door, somewhere on the uppermost floor of the North wing. Nakajima stops right before the door, hesitating for a moment, before she turns to look at him. Her eyes are kind when she looks at him, but her smile is sad.

“You are still young,” she says. “Don’t think this is the end.”

It’s the second time Nakajima Yumi has surprised him today. Something in her eyes seems old and knowing. Tetsuya feels an odd sensation of appreciation well up in his chest. She might not see the reality of him and his situation, but in her way she does care.

She’s so different from Shirai Naomi, like day from night, and Tetsuya finds himself wondering how it could have been if his own grandmother had been more like Nakajima. If she would have done what she did. In the same vein, he can’t help but wonder if Nakajima would have done what Naomi did, if she had been born heir to the Teikou clan. If she would have led her own daughter to the slaughtering block.

Whatever she makes of his silence, she doesn’t tell. Nakajima pats him on the shoulder with a reassuring smile, before turning back and swiftly opening the door.

And that is how he is introduced to the flock of women that make up the Queen’s court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> karuta is a sort of Japanese card game that works a little like memory, but is infinitely more complex. I suggest reading up on it on Wikipedia, as it is impossible to explain concisely. Or watch the anime Chihayafuru.


	7. Needle Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update. Also, I have decided to decrease intervals between updates. Maybe around a week.  
> I'd also like to share some trivia with every update, so today's update's trivia is:  
>  **The working title of this fic is, "what the everloving fuck am I even doing"**  
>  ~~~  
> I think I should apologize for the imagery in this chapter, because as of now I can't offer an explanation without spoiling anything, so yeah, have fun figuring out what people are talking about I the latter half of the chapter.

Tetsuya finds a workable routine throughout the next days. During the day he acquaints himself with his duties. He accompanies Akashi to the court meetings and assemblies or attends the few meetings he has with ambassadors from their neighboring countries. In between all that, Tetsuya keeps a sharp eye on Akashi's surroundings.

But everything seems to be calm on the surface.

Akashi instructs him in between meetings, cool but patient and Tetsuya feels all the more how little a grasp he has on Akashi's personality. They eat lunch and dinner together occasionally, when their schedules match or when Akashi extends an invitation. It seems as though Akashi is making somewhat of an effort to involve him in his new life. Tetsuya tries to absorb as much knowledge and information he can, wherever he can find it.

He has yet to set foot in Akashi's private rooms.

Tetsuya still feels that twang of unease in Akashi's company, worsened as they are rarely ever without at least one member of the honor guard. And sometimes, when he's in one of their companies, memories surface, memories of that night and how it felt. His nightmares have changed in flavor, but he can't tell if the sticky sweet of _now_ is preferable to the salty bitter tang of _then_.

But most days, it's easy enough to forget.

Kise is his usual cheerful self, unperturbed by his peer's obvious disinterest in his general presence. Midorima brings something new to the table every day, quite literally, and today it happens to be a ceramic figurine of an animal Tetsuya has never seen before. It is yellow and spotted with brown colors, and it has a neck so long Tetsuya thinks it must be mythical. Murasakibara pays more attention to his food than anything else, and Aomine is so much like Kagami in so many ways, that it's sometimes painful to watch him laugh and goof around and pick on Kise in between, when he isn't busy stuffing his face with so much food it's ridiculous. Because Tetsuya can't help but think this is how Kagami would have turned out, if life hadn't laid an assassin's knife at his feet.

And then there is Akashi. Akashi who treats him with the haughty indifference of the mighty, but encloses him all the same in his daily schedules, as though he could read the intent in Tetsuya's mind to stay close at all times. But there's a split in Akashi's personality, something Tetsuya has noticed that one night, and then later again, when Akashi's eyes changed so marginally and yet so chilling, it still sends a shiver of cold down Tetsuya's spine.

There seem to be so many fractions to Akashi's personality, pieced together to a whole and yet the pieces shift every now and then and reveal a darkness that feels all too familiar in its existence.

Sometimes it's just the subtle change of his left eye, when the pupil changes its shape and that gaze turns piercing and inescapable.

And sometimes it's as if Akashi's gone and someone else takes his place, or maybe it's more accurate to say the real Akashi surfaces - Tetsuya can't make sense of it just yet. But whenever _it_ surfaces, the men around Akashi bend like reed grass.

Tetsuya still remembers the force of _that_ gaze.

It's been nine days since Tetsuya uncovered the would-be conspiracy, but nothing has happened so far. He keeps up his nightly tours, but doesn't stumble upon any more secret meetings.

During the rare times he isn't occupied with his official duties - and safeguarding Akashi's life against a threat that might never surface - Momoi digs her metaphorical claws into him. She introduces him to a lot of people, all of which are somewhat important in keeping the palace up and running, but Tetsuya gives up after about the first twenty to remember all of them.

It's already gotten quite clear that he will focus more on his tasks as Akashi's advisor, than many of the social duties Lady Shiori took upon herself, a decision, Momoi freely admits, is for the best. Still, he is the Imperial consort and as such at least has to know the people working under him, and if he ever so much as desired to try his hands at Queenly duties, it wouldn't hurt to know people in advance or so Momoi explains.

At least Nakajima told him she didn't expect his presence during the court ladies' activities, although she did tell him he were always welcome to join them for tea, needlework or gossiping. She also invited him to come to her for some well needed relaxation, if his duties every threatened to overwhelm him. They had come to a quiet and unspoken agreement that while Tetsuya would remain chief court lady in title, Nakajima would continue in overseeing the other ladies in his stead.

As Nakajima predicted, the court ladies have taken to his choice of fashion in a flash, even Momoi seems to have taken a liking to wearing kimonos, instead of her formal uniform.

And then, finally and thankfully, Kagami returns.

His nightly excursions have left him with too little sleep and Tetsuya has found himself more and more willing to give in to the sweet lull of Ayame's nightly cocoa drink and just skip his outing for one night. That night, after dinner, Tetsuya decides that for once, he can allow himself a full night of sleep. He won't be of any good, if he's constantly exhausted, so Tetsuya doesn't feel half bad when he ignores the dark bundle in his wardrobe and plops right into bed after his round of exercise.

Stamina was always the factor Riko bemoaned to be the one that put the greatest limiter on his abilities. Even years of training and exercising had done little to increase his endurance, but as Kagami had put it, with an affectionate ruffle of hair, karma merely saw fit to balance his otherwise abnormal abilities. Kagami had called it 'crazy-ass-skills' and the thought of his best friend and quasi-brother and his brash and unpolished manners, brings an ever so slightly smile to Tetsuya's lips.

A smile that lasts for about a second, before he remembers their last encounter, and why Kagami likely stayed away for so long. For all his rough edges, Kagami is surprisingly fragile.

Just as though he's heard Tetsuya's thought, or maybe because fate really does play on all their strings as Midorima would have him believe, the curtains rustle in a familiar greeting.

A moment later, Kagami's dark shape drops into his room. Tetsuya feels a weight, he hadn't even realized was there, lifting from his heart.

"Kuroko?" Kagami asks tentatively into the dark. The moon is just a thin sickle in the sky and the few stars that dot the night sky aren't enough to sufficiently light the room. Tetsuya still has a rather clear image of Kagami's double-eyebrow-enhanced frown in his mind.

"Your night vision is terrible, Kagami-kun." Tetsuya can't help but point out. Predictably, Kagami startles.

"Damn it Kuroko, don't do that." Kagami curses low under his breath.

"Do what?" Tetsuya asks innocently and finally sits up.

Kagami just gives him a glare. "My night vision is fine." He says tersely, but it lasts for about two seconds, before Kagami's posture softens, as does his voice. "How are you?" The question is loaded with more than just the surface interest in his current condition.

"Good." Tetsuya says evenly. He fiddles a bit until he has lit the lamp on his nightstand table.

Kagami slumps somewhat. He doesn't meet Tetsuya's eyes in the flickering darkness of oil light, instead he fixes them on the spray of flowers Shion put on his nightstand. Daffodils, even this late in spring. "Ah…" He rubs a hand on his neck. "Look…"

Tetsuya knows what's coming, so he stops Kagami, before he can even start. "There is no reason to apologize, Kagami-kun." He says firmly.

Kagami drops his hand and looks at him, surprised. "How did you…?"

Tetsuya allows himself a fond smile. "I do know you since I was five." He reminds Kagami, whose blush is visible, even in the flickering light of the lamp.

Kagami smiles, toothy, the way his twelve year old self did when he fell from the persimmon tree he'd climbed to pluck Tetsuya some persimmons. He'd sat through the subsequent scolding and lecturing about the sacredness of persimmon trees with less than appropriate contriteness, only to produce a whole persimmon from his pockets, the moment he was alone with Tetsuya.

Eight year old Tetsuya couldn't remember anything tasting as good as that persimmon shared with his God-defying brother.

"Aida told me I owe you an apology." Kagami says somewhat sheepishly. "I…" He hesitates for a moment, eyes flickering unsteadily between Tetsuya and the rest of the room. "I told her everything."

Tetsuya merely nods. He didn't expect anything else.

Kagami's frown is unhappy. "She said it was to be expected." Kagami lifts his shoulders in a discontented, but ultimately helpless gesture. "That doesn't make it right." He ends softly, almost defensively.

"No it doesn't." Tetsuya agrees quietly. "But if it is what I had to do, then I don't have any regrets." And he would do it again, would do so much worse, if only it serves to save his niece.

Silence settles, but it's more companionable than awkward. Kagami might not like it, but he does understand the situation well enough. Riko does have that effect.

But Kagami, being Kagami can't stand the silence for long. "So how's palace life, your highness?" His grin is the tiniest fraction of forced, but he makes the effort, so Tetsuya ignores it.

"Spoiled." Tetsuya shudders.

"That bad?" Kagami drops in one of Tetsuya's chairs, sighing in content as he stretches out his limbs. "I bet you don't have to lift a finger around here. You sure you haven't forgotten how to handle a knife? Or do they feed you? Come on, you can tell me."

Tetsuya throws a pillow at his head. It misses by a wide margin and Kagami just muffles his laughter into his fist.

"I'll have you know, I am in perfectly good shape." Tetsuya informs him, suppressing a yawn. He stares at his pillow bleakly. He doesn't want to get up and fetch it, his bed is quite comfortable and warm.

"Of course you are." Kagami bends down and picks up the pillow. Instead of throwing it back, he fluffs it up and hugs it to his chest with a comfortable sigh. "Is that why you are so tired?"

Tetsuya gives him a baleful look. That's _his_ pillow. "I didn't sleep much. I was busy gathering intelligence." He yawns again.

"What did you get?" Kagami learns forward, interested.

"Well, apparently I was supposed to function as a puppet on the throne, after my family staged a coup to remove Akashi from power."

"Ah." Kagami says and blinks. "What?"

Tetsuya recounts his nightly visit to the minister of the Center's chambers and what he learned there.

Kagami's expression is a thoughtful one, when he finishes. Tetsuya watches as he rhythmically squeezes the pillow in his hands. "Do you think she intended to go through with it?"

"No." Tetsuya says flatly. "She would have never considered it. I suppose she needed to increase my value somehow." Tetsuya doesn't allow any inflection to color how he thinks about that.

Kagami isn't fooled, his face softens and he stops abusing the pillow. "She would go that far, huh?" He asks solemnly.

Tetsuya looks away. "She would have gone further." He says blankly. "She can't lay a hand on me, so someone else has to." Unwanted, his hands clench into fists.

"They're not going to kill you." Kagami sounds as though he's trying to convince himself more than Tetsuya.

"No," Tetsuya says slowly, "they won't." At least, he thinks, he can be sure of that now. "She would be so disappointed." He can't really help but add with no small amount of bitterness.

Silence settles once more. Kagami is still working through all the news and Tetsuya's tiredness is about to take its toll. There's one last thing though, before he can allow himself to fall asleep.

"How are they?" Kagami would have told him, if anything had happened, but he still worries. He still cares. Sometimes it's all that keeps him going.

Kagami smiles reassuringly. "Fine, they're fine." He thinks for a moment, then his face brightens up. "Shizuka told me to tell you she's cross with you for not being there to participate in her tea party."

Tetsuya feels a soft feeling of warmth bloom in his chest.

"She roped Kiyoshi into participating." Kagami's grin is rather amused. "She made mud cake."

Tetsuya can't help the soft chuckle that escapes him. Shizuka is very adamant about her baking, although Tetsuya can be quick enough to fool her into believing he ate her cakes. Kiyoshi's strengths lie somewhere else.

His mirth is short lived. Thinking of Kiyoshi still makes his gut clench in anger. Now his strengths have to lie somewhere entirely else.

His brother is sneaky, always was, maybe it's a family trait. But where Tetsuya is a shadow, his brother is a pitfall of pure darkness. And he always takes care to put the bait in someone else's hand. His brother had wanted to see Kiyoshi's strength for himself, so he had challenged him to a match. He wasn't the one fighting though; he never got his hands dirty. His personal guard would do just as well. _Just a practice match, there is no harm in that, right?_ That's what his brother had said.

Tetsuya's hands are clenched tightly around the sheets, something he doesn't even realize until Kagami is there and gently pries his hands open.

"It's okay Kuroko." He says and because they've always been as close as brothers, _real_ brothers, Tetsuya lets him pull him into a tight, comforting hug.

It was an accident, his brother had claimed. His guard's, blade, blunted for practice, but still, had struck Kiyoshi's knee, too hard on a bad angle. Something had been irreparably broken. Now, Kiyoshi will never be able to walk properly again, let alone fight.

 _Thank goodness, we don't put down injured soldiers like we would a limping horse._ His brother's words still ring in Tetsuya's head. But he couldn't prove anything, and even if he could, Naomi would have never listened to him. She had offered compensation to Aida-san, of course she had; she still valued Seirin's services and maybe even understood how fickle the bond between the Seirin and the Teikou had become.

But his brother and his henchman had gone unpunished.

And soon after, Shirai Naomi was dead, as though the move on Kiyoshi had merely been a test to see how far his brother could go, how well honed his weapon had become.

Eventually, he loosens his grip on Kagami and sits back slightly. Kagami ruffles a hand through his hair, but thankfully doesn't say anything. Tetsuya leans against Kagami, seeking the heat that always clings to his skin, no matter what. It's a reminder as much as it is comfort, a reminder that he's not alone in this and that Kagami would walk off the earth for him, without hesitation.

Sometimes the scope of Kagami's loyalty - how far he is willing to go without even a shred of hesitation - pulls the floor right from under Tetsuya's feet.

"I should go." Kagami says eventually, but makes no move to leave. Tetsuya's eyes have fallen shut at some point and he blinks them open sluggishly. Not much time has passed, he thinks, but the light in his lamp is flickering suspiciously, as though the oil is almost gone.

He looks up at Kagami, notes the shadows under his eyes. It seems he wasn't the only one who hadn't gotten enough sleep. "Go to bed, Kagami-kun." Tetsuya sits up again, back slightly protesting at being stretched out of its cramped position.

"Sure." Kagami says drily. "I bet no one would take notice of the stranger sleeping in the bed tomorrow morning."

"I'll just tell them you're my cat." Tetsuya reclaims the pillow Kagami had brought with him and sinks down into it with a blissful sigh. Kagami is warm, but he's also hard and muscle-y and now the entire left side of his face kind of hurts from pressing against a hard surface.

Kagami's laughter drifts through the air and then there's a warm and soft hand on his head. He thinks Kagami says something else, but his mind is already drifting off and into dream land.

"I want to have noted that I think this is a terrible idea." Shintarou adjusts his spectacles and huffs, annoyed.

"Noted." Sejuro says without looking up. Shintarou huffs again.

"How certain is our source?" Reo asks, lounging against the frame of Seijuro's study door.

Seijuro finally looks up from the report he's been reading. Reo's posture is carefully relaxed, but Seijuro sees the tense line of his shoulders.

"There is no reason to worry." Seijuro says coolly. He bestows Shintarou with a side eyed glance, to leave no doubt that he's included in that statement as well.

"Everything will go as expected. I don't make mistakes."

"Of course not." Reo pushes way from the doorframe. "I'll relay the instructions. Sure you don't want any more guards?"

Seijuro turns back to the report. "That won't be necessary. Atsushi is entirely sufficient for maintaining my safety. The rest is merely to contain the situation." He notices the look that passes between Reo and Shintarou, but doesn't comment. They like to make a fuss every now and then, and occasionally Seijuro indulges them, as it seems to satisfy their inherent need to take care of him.

Today is not one of those days.

Morning comes way too soon. Tetsuya feels like he has barely slept at all when he's greeted by sunlight on his face and Ayame's cheerful morning greeting.

And since he's been way too tired lately, and still sort of is, it comes as pretty much a surprise when Sumire reminds him that today is the monthly audience day, and that he is expected to receive the petitioners at Akashi's side.

Tetsuya takes his daily bath, thinking somewhat bitterly about Kagami's words from the day before. The calluses on his hands have softened and the rough skin on his knuckles isn't nearly as hard as he would like it to be. He needs to find a way to practice and keep his hands in shape; otherwise his skills will be of little use.

"Would Kuroko-sama like ointment for his hands?" His thoughts are interrupted by Ayame, who looks down at where he's subconsciously rubbing his hands. The water has already softened his finger tips into squishy pads of skin. Even his palms are soft and pliable.

Ayame crouches down, hands still soapy from where she had worked the soap into his hair and gently takes his hands in his. The skin on his palms catches against Ayame's softer, smooth skin - the hands of a woman who never had to work a sweat in her life.

The wealth of a nation can be measured in how spoiled its servants are.

Sumire, who'd been watching over the temperature of the bathwater draws her mouth into a displeased line, but stays silent. After many fruitless attempts of reining Ayame in, Sumire seems to have accepted it. Shion is outside in his bedroom, putting together his outfit for the day.

"It can be a while, before your hands will be as smooth as a lady's." Ayame's smile is warm, but something in Tetsuya coils in tension all the same. Unheeding, Ayame's thumb rubs over the rough patches on his palms. "You worked hard, didn't you?" There is that motherly gentleness again, concern and care. It's painful as much as it is heartwarming. Sumire clears her throat, a wordless reprimand, and for once Tetsuya is glad for her strict and uptight personality.

"That won't be necessary." Tetsuya says evenly and pulls his hands from Ayame's grasp.

She seems surprised for a moment, but smiles all the same, before returning to rinsing the soap from his hair.

 _I can't grow soft_ , Tetsuya thinks, thumbs rubbing over his knuckles, back and forth, back and forth, as if that could bring back the hardened skin he already shed.

The robes Shion presents to him have been adjusted to his frame by the tailor, by whose behest, Tetsuya doesn't know. But they're not as heavy anymore, smaller too, so it no longer looks as though he's been swallowed by rampant fabric. The color is a compromise, a soft pastel tinged purple with trims of Imperial red. The crest of the Rakuzan is stitched neatly into his sleeves and collar, but it's mirrored by the Teikou's crest on the other side of the collar, eternal union of light and darkness in auspicious blue.

On a whim, because the crest reminds him of it, Tetsuya retrieves his fan from where he stored it on a decorative shelf. Somehow the sight makes him nostalgic. It's a simple fan, cheap materials but masterfully crafted. Still, the paper is peeling from the wood in places, and some of the color has bleached. But it reminds him of home, even if the displayed crest and his _home_ have so little in common. They may share the same space in this world, the Teikou homestead and the place he chose as his family, but they couldn't be further apart.

Such a thin thread, and all that kept it from breaking was a century old promise and Tetsuya's word.

Another whim, or maybe instinct, has him sneak the needle from his closet and hide it in the folds of his sleeve. A day like this is predestined for an assassination attempt.

Audiences are held in the court hall, the same room most of the court meetings have taken place. After breakfast, Tetsuya makes his way over to the main tract, or rather he attempts to make his way over, but he is intercepted at his door, by an unfamiliar young man. He falls right in line with the odd amount of rainbow colored hair at this place, with his orange-hued hair. He wears a somewhat ruffled looking palace uniform, although the only insignia is the Teikou crest emblazoned on his collar.

As far as first impressions go, Tetsuya is not sure what to make of this one.

The man, aside from having leftovers from his breakfast clinging to the skin around his mouth, seems to be vibrating out of his skin with so much unbridled excitement it takes Tetsuya aback. He seems to be very close to bouncing on his feet where he stands.

"Kuroko-sama!" Upon his sight, the man actually does bounce on his feet. "I'm appointed as your personal attendant for official meetings starting now. It is a pleasure to meet you." He bows, while still bouncing on his feet, somehow managing not to fall over during the whole display.

His enthusiasm could put Kise to shame and then some.

The man looks up at him expectantly, and as Tetsuya fails to deliver any kind of response, his face falls. "Uh." He says; his brows draw down into a dejected frown.

Tetsuya takes pity. "I am pleased to meet you…?" He tries to make the question mark tagged to the end of his sentence as obvious possible, but he doubts he's made a very good job of it, as the man lights up and bows again, back to overly enthusiastic puppy in no time, but fails to offer his name.

"Your name." Tetsuya prompts.

The guards, standing silent watch at his door make a less than valiant attempt at hiding their amusement, which entirely goes over the man's head.

The man's face falls again. "Oh. I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I?" Just as Tetsuya thinks he couldn't have ended up with a worse choice for his attendant, the man visibly draws himself together. "I ask your forgiveness milord" He says, much more formal now. "I tend to allow myself to get carried away too easily, please forgive my rudeness." He bows again, this time slower and with much more decorum. "My name is Ogiwara Shigehiro and I hereby report for duty as your attendant." This time, his smile is measured and polite, yet he can't hide the twinkle in his eyes. The effect is somewhat hindered by the few crumbs of food, clinging stubbornly to Ogiwara's face.

"I have food on my face, haven't I?" Tetsuya thinks he'd been subtle, but Ogiwara must have caught his eyes flicking between his eyes and mouth. "That happens a lot to me." He grins sheepishly, while rubbing his mouth. "I'm a bit of a messy eater."

Ogiwara tags along when Tetsuya makes his way to the meeting hall. This time the room is almost empty, safe for the ministers of Civil Services, Taxation, Justice and the Imperial Household and their attendants. Akashi hasn't arrived yet, and judging by the presence of the two attendants of the Chancellor, Fujiwara can expected be to arrive any time soon.

Tetsuya exchanges polite greetings with Shirogane Eiji, the minister of Civil Services. Oshiro Masanori, the minister of Justice greets him with a nod, while Watanabe Jun, the minister of the Imperial Hosuehold ignores him. Nakano Arata's eyes follow him all the way to his seat, oddly intense and faintly expectant. Normally Tetsuya would pay it little mind, but with what he's overheard just recently, it sets his teeth on edge.

Tetsuya has barely taken his seat when the small side door opens again and Akashi walks in, followed by Murasakibara and Chancellor Fujiwara. The attendants bow as they pass, but Akashi pays them all no mind. He acknowledges Tetsuya barely with a nod, before he signals the two attendants waiting at the front doors to open.

Outside is the busy bustling of the main hall and Tetsuya can just make out a line of petitioners waiting for their chance to talk to their Emperor. One of the attendants calls out something and there's a flash of pink when Momoi whizzes past to herd in the first petitioner. A man shuffles forward, hands clasped in front of him as he makes his way past the ministers to speak in front of Akashi.

His clothes stick out among the expensive silk and velvet surrounding him. They're not bad clothes, but they look worn and mended more than a few times. He falls to his knees in front of their table, forehead pressed to the ground and remains like that until Akashi's cool voice breaks the silence.

"Kneeling is not necessary. State your business."

The man does, telling of a wolf or mountain cat that haunts his village, leaving sheep's carcasses in its wake. Humans haven't fallen victim yet, but the man fears for the children's safety. Akashi listens quietly and then offers to send a party of huntsmen with the man to take care of the problem. The man bows again, less nervous and with obvious relief, and leaves after barely two minutes of conversation.

It continues in that manner. Most petitioners have rather small problems, wild animals, disputes over land, a broken dam that needs repair, petitions to raise the fishing quota - problems that are solved with a few words and a promise.

The mayor of a small mountain village begs for their tax levy to be postponed as a thunderstorm has wrecked havoc on all their crops. It will be some time until the newly planted summer crops will have grown to make up for the loss of spring.

Another village is raided by mountain bandits and seeks military assistance.

A trader, a wealthy merchant dressed even more expensively than Akashi's court, begs for Akashi's permission on purchasing a trading license for foreign goods, promising wealth and riches in return.

Tetsuya sits and listens quietly. Ogiwara has handed him ink and quill and a stack of expensive paper to write on, if he needs to, but so far nothing important has occurred. Akashi handles everything, sometimes relegating cases to his ministers, but mostly he makes the decisions.

And as the day progresses, Tetsuya's first impression of the inner court relations solidifies. Chancellor Fujiwara speaks up a few times, offering his counsel unprompted. Akashi seems to put great trust into the man's words, as he almost always follows his advice.

Occasionally, Akashi addresses Shirogane, when a case pertains his responsibility, sometimes he prompts Oshiro on questions of the law. But never, not even once, does he address Watanabe or Nakano. Even when the mayor asks for tax relief, and Nakano starts fidgeting obviously in his chair, Akashi ignores him entirely.

They break for lunch, a short and taciturn affair served by two kitchen servants, while the still waiting petitioners are treated outside to the same. The air is quite stuffy and Tetsuya is grateful he brought his fan; he's even more grateful for the fact that his position is tied to female traditions and no one can take offense when he hides his face behind the thin paper of his family crest.

They resume after lunch, the line outside barely seemed to have gotten shorter and Tetsuya notices in more than one of the court members the quite annoyance that comes with being stuck to a boring task. Even Nakano, who'd been rather tense the whole morning, seems to have given in to the late spring heat.

Still, or rather because of that, Tetsuya's senses are on edge and he scrutinizes every new petitioner with a careful eye. Something seems off, but he can't exactly place his finger on what.

They are interrupted a short while later by Midorima who walks in, hands Akashi a few documents and then leaves again, all without acknowledging anyone in the room, except Akashi. Midorima, as it turns out when Tetsuya turns to look to the still open side door, has come with Suzuki Jurou in tow, and in that moment, when everyone is distracted by Midorima's appearance, something passes between Suzuki and Nakano. It's subtle, just a look that lingers a moment too long, but the uneasy feeling in Tetsuya's gut flares in warning.

He's been watching people all his life, so he doesn't miss the subtle shifts in Nakano's posture. He still looks as lethargic and disinterested as before, but now that's only on the surface. There's the barely perceptible twitch of his index finger against the table surface, the arrhythmic tensing of his jaw when he thinks no one is looking.

Nakano is waiting for something.

Tetsuya shifts in his seat, ostensibly to stretch his cramped muscles but in actuality he braces himself for combat. He has no idea what will happen, or if anything will happen, but as Riko has pounded into him on more than one occasion, it always pays to be prepared. And while someone attacking Akashi in his sleep is a very viable option - one that Tetsuya could have easily tried himself, but could have done nothing to prevent - it hasn't happened.

Ogiwara fidgets behind him, something he's done frequently, but with his senses now on high alert, it's become diistracting. Akashi next to him is relaxed as ever, as he listens to a worn out woman who claims her daughter's honor has been besmirched by a nobleman who now refuses to marry her.

Tetsuya only listens with half an ear as he is waiting for something to happen. It's unlikely that the attack will come from inside the room, there had been plenty of chances already, but none of the petitioners that come in seem to be interested in anything else than their own problems. Still, Tetsuya waits.

But ultimately, nothing happens. The woman shuffles out, clutching a stained handkerchief in her hands but appeased all the same that justice will be done, trading places with the next petitioner. It goes on and Tetsuya's skin is prickling with warning, but nothing happens.

Nakano's impatience doesn't settle either and it serves to keep Tetsuya on edge. At least he's subtle enough about it that no one notices, but it's of little comfort.

The worst is, he's sure that something is about to go down, but as the minutes pass by, the tension coils tighter and tighter, without any relief in sight.

Eventually, Akashi wraps up the day, sending the remaining petitioners home to come back next time. Tetsuya remembers what Kise told him on the day he showed him around. It seems to be true. There had been some pressing issues that couldn't have waited much longer, bandits, a dam about to break after spring flooding, an unknown illness ravaging the coast settlements in the East, and now as he carefully watches the petitioners still waiting outside, none of them seems particularly upset at being sent home. No begging and screaming to be heard, no issue seeming pressing enough to pick a fight.

The atmosphere, if anything, is jovial.

It makes him feel all the more stupid for feeling this on edge the whole time. Everything seems to be fine. But Tetsuya has learned to trust his instincts above anything else, so he keeps his eyes open and his stance loose and ready, while they make their way out the court hall.

Ogiwara touches his arm gently, and Tetsuya just barely manages to catch his reflex before he lands his hand on Ogiwara's throat. If Ogiwara notices the aborted movement, he doesn't show it.

"Tonight we will be receiving an honored guest from Cathay. Kuroko-sama is expected to attend." Tetsuya isn't exactly sure if he was supposed to know that beforehand, or if he'd just failed to remember yet another important point on his schedule thanks to lack of sleep.

"I… uh... was supposed to tell you that earlier, but I was too excited to finally meet Kuroko-sama." Ogiwara confesses, eyes darting here and there. "I'm sorry." He adds, somewhat belatedly.

Akashi has already left, without waiting for Tetsuya to catch up. Tetsuya can't see him anywhere in the main hall and concludes he must have already gone ahead.

"I have a guest list." Ogiwara pats down his uniform pockets, frowning as he looks for the aforementioned list. Tetsuya doesn't wait for him to find it, but makes his way through the main hall and to the great banquet hall, where the wedding feast was held.

"Kuroko-sama, wait." Ogiwara rushes after him, a crumpled looking scroll of parchment in hands and waving frantically with it to get his attention. "That's the wrong direction. The feast will be held somewhere else." He holds out the scroll with an expectant grin.

Tetsuya tilts his head. "I imagine the names will bear little resemblance in my mind, would you be so kind and point out important people to me later?" He asks politely. Ogiwara is stunned for a moment, mouth hanging half open, before his whole face lights up in delight.

"Of course. It is my pleasure to be of use to Kuroko-sama."

Ogiwara leads him down a corridor, hurrying along, as the end of the audience session and the beginning of the banquet have been cut rather close together.

"Chengyi-sama has arrived earlier than expected, but Akashi-dono has been adamant about not rescheduling the audience." Ogiwara explains while they rush through the corridors. "As a result the banquet starts right after the audiences are done."

Ogiwara leads him to a small hidden door, leading to a small room adjacent to one of the smaller dining halls scattered all throughout the palace. Inside, Akashi is surrounded by three servants who quickly change his clothes, while giving orders to his guards. Another servant is off to the side, adjusting the Imperial guards' uniforms. Momoi is in the center of it all, barking orders left and right, unheeding of the Emperor's presence right at her side.

Ayame and Shion rush to his side, while Momoi rattles down some information on their foreign guest. Unlike most of the ambassadors Akashi has received since Tetsuya's arrival, Prince Chengyi Hua Gong is an important ally to the Rakuzan. He is also the heir to Cathay's throne and while Akashi's power base isn't likely to be threatened by another country, he does rely on good neighborly relations for trade. And Cathay is the Empire's main source for silk, porcelain and jade, among other things.

He's stripped out of his formal court robes quickly, while Shion unfolds a flowing robe in steely blue, complicit to Akashi's similarly cut robe of red brocade. Akashi's is adorned by a phoenix, winding its way up his torso, born from flames that line the seams. The wings are spread open and cover Akashi's shoulders like a mantle. Tetsuya's is much subtler in comparison, azaleas entwined with a flock of birds.

Akashi is crowned by a heavy gold piece, a dragon winding itself around his forehead, rubies for eyes, head proudly raised to look down on his subjects. Tetsuya gets a thin silver circlet, a ring of lilies woven around the thin body of a sea serpent.

It's the first time that Tetsuya sees the Imperial regalia. Chengyi truly must be an important person.

"We're good." Momoi steps back after adjusting Tetsuya's crown, checking one last time if his robes fall right, before giving a short wave to a servant waiting at the door.

"Tetsuya." Akashi's voice is calm and he makes an inviting gesture with his hand. Tetsuya steps up next to him, face cast downward and hands clasped together in front of him. He had to surrender his fan, but the needle is safely pinned in the inside of his flowing right sleeve. He notices the obvious absence of weapons on the Imperial guard as they fall in place around them.

"Look ahead. Today, you are my Queen." Akashi doesn't look at him, nor is his voice any differend than usual. But oddly enough, something flips in Tetsuya's chest at the words.

It's almost too natural how he falls in step besides Akashi, perfectly harmonious in their cadence, as they walk to the small shoji door that separates them from the main dining hall.

Unlike all the other dining rooms Tetsuya has seen so far, this one is held in traditional pre-Imperial style. The floors are covered with tatami mats and the walls, although reinforced with wood to ascertain privacy, are made from shoji framework.

Most of the guests are already seated at their respective tables. The room is overlooked by one larger long table at one side, with its mirror at the other side of the room, the lines of guest tables stretching in between. A few palace guards line the walls, ceremonial uniforms and no weapons.

Akashi's hand brushes his elbow, just faintly, but Tetsuya follows the lead without thinking; walking down the line of bowing guests - nobles, officials and dignitaries - who press their foreheads against the smooth surface of the tables in front of them. Akashi falls to his knees with exceptional grace, robes settling around him in a perfect fold of rustling fabric. Tetsuya shadows him moments later, folding his hands in his lap, but keeping his head high as per Akashi's instructions.

The table on the other end of the room is still empty.

Tetsuya recognizes the ministers and many of the other officials that attended the various meetings he participated in. Some of the nobles he sees for the first time, although he has an inkling they'd been present during the wedding banquet, but for once he can't quite remember.

They are served by a string of artfully dressed women, in whom Tetsuya recognizes some of the court ladies. The moment he and Akashi had taken their seats, a woman slid in place next to him, a flask of warm sake in her hands, ready to serve.

Next to Tetsuya's personal servant - the young daughter of Lord Yamamoto, if he remembers correctly - sit Aomine and Kise, the former unusual attentive for his normally bored demeanor. Kise on the other hand seems to be in his natural element, already charming the girl that's been ordered to serve them. Next to Akashi, Midorima and Murasakibara have taken their places. Midorima is as stiff as ever, and keeps whispering into Akashi's ear, while Murasakibara looks as though he's a fraction away from falling asleep.

Both Tetsuya's personal attendants, Ogiwara and Mayuzumi, kneel a distance behind them, providing assistance if necessary.

The large two-framed doors of the main entrance slide open. A man in the uniform of the Imperial couriers steps through and bows. "His Imperial Majesty, Prince Chengyi Hua Gong of the Feng dynasty." He announces with a clear voice, before stepping aside.

The crown prince of Cathay strikes an imposing figure in his elaborate multilayered robes and head adorned with a lacquered head piece of a finely carved sparrow. He's surrounded by a throng of people who keep whispering in his ears, even as he makes his way to his seat opposite Akashi and Tetsuya. All of them have their faces covered with a thin white veil that only leaves the eyes open. Ogiwara whispers to him that it is customary in Cathay to hide one's face in the presence of a higher being.

"Chengyi." Akashi inclines his head in greeting, once the prince has seated himself.

"Seijuro" Chengyi acknowledges with an equally measured nod.

It seems to be some kind of signal, because the female servants all start moving at once, pouring sake and serving plates with fish, vegetables and rice, all artfully arranged in small portions. Tetsuya listens attentively as Akashi and Chengyi trade conversation back and forth during the meal. It's nondescript on the surface, but Tetsuya can't shake the feeling that something else is passed between the two men, something that stirs right under the surface of the otherwise pleasant conversation.

"Congratulations on your betrothal." Chengyi's eyes flicker to Tetsuya for the fraction of a second. His mouth is quirked slightly, in some form of perpetual smile. It does not reach his eyes.

Akashi accepts the words with another graceful nod. He holds out his cup for his servant to refill, while watching Chengyi with an expression carefully balanced between thoughtful and amused. "I have heard you've been finally engaged to dear Ling-Yan?" The question mark tagged to the end of his sentence seems perfunctorily, as Akashi leaves no doubt that he isn't guessing, he _knows_.

"Ahhh, princess Ling-Yan of the Ran." Chengyi swirls the sake in his cup with a soft motion. "A woman as rare as fine wine." His perpetual smile morphs into a smirk for a moment before he drinks some from his cup. "An esteemed line, the Ran. But ultimately, mundane."

Akashi tilts his head. "The simplicity of the mundane can be refreshing. I suppose _you_ would know of that." There's poison in each of Chengyi's words, honeyed and deadly. But Akashi matches him beat for beat. Tetsuya feels his skin crawl with it.

Chengyi laughs. The sound is like the slides of rocks down a steep hill, chafing and ultimately dangerous. "Oh I _do_ know the pleasure of the mundane. I have dipped my petals in it quite a few times."

He clicks his chop sticks together, before picking up a piece of his fish. Sauce drips from his chin, but Chengyi doesn't seem perturbed. One of his attendants wipes it off with a napkin. "But that's just the difference, between us." Chengyi's eyes carry a malicious glint that is matched by the strange vertical tilt of Akashi's left pupil. "I dip, whereas you _root_? Ah, but it never is that easy now, is it?"

Tetsuya can taste the tension in the air on his tongue.

"Hard soil makes for strong plants." Akashi says, voice deceptively calm.

"Words are a slippery thing, aren't they? Your people always had a heart for poetry, do they not? An odd choice, if ever I saw one. What is that game your people are so fond of? One hundred poets? I do see the merits of shogi, I have a taste for it myself, but _poetry_?" He laughs again, the sound sharp and grating.

Tetsuya doesn't dare to look at Akashi. Something tells him that it would be inadvertently dangerous to do so. Instead he levels his eyes on Chengyi, at the cruel lines around his mouth and eyes as he keeps his eyes on Akashi like a snake that has trapped its target.

Akashi picks up his sake cup with a measured gesture. A chill chases down Tetsuya's spine. "The merit of a person can be tested quite easily with a game of karuta." Akashi's voice is cold. "But your mind never was your greatest weapon." Unlike Chengyi, Akashi doesn't phrase it as a question.

The room seems to hold their collective breath. It's as close to an open insult as any of the conversation has come so far, and Tetsuya has absolutely no idea how Chengyi will react. Neither does anyone else, it seems.

And oddly enough, Tetsuya finds himself thinking of what Nakajima had said about karuta. _A game of wits_.

"The same can be said of shogi, of course" Akashi doesn't betray any of the tension currently permeating the room.

Chengyi laughs. It's not the grating sound from before, but a loud, belly shaking affair that has him sway in his seat. "So maybe you should challenge me to a game then?" He asks, strange glint in eyes, and Tetsuya realizes that the laugh is merely a distraction; the danger is far from gone.

"To what avail?" Akashi sounds bored now. Tetsuya can't tell if it's real or just a façade. "I always win. The outcome is already determined."

Chengyi smirks. "Victory as a prerequisite for supremacy. I see you still hold on to your…" His eyes seem to flash with something for a moment, an emotion Tetsuya could not name. " _mundane_ beliefs."

It's so quiet one could hear a needle fall to the ground.

"The weak need an excuse for their weakness." Akashi says, sounding as disinterested as before. But this time, Tetsuya can make out the faintest trace of tension in his voice. "I am absolute, therefore I am always right." For some indiscernible reason - and right now not pressing enough to ponder about - Imayoshi is trying very hard not to laugh.

Akashi puts down his cup and _looks_ at Chengyi. Tetsuya doesn't need to see it himself to know exactly how his eyes look right now. Cold and piercing, until the very soul lays bare. "Tell me, have you clipped your bird's wings yet?"

Chengyi measures Akashi for a moment, before his trademark smile is back in place. "Of course. She isn't an ordinary bird after all." For an instance, his smiles turns sharp. "It would do no good if my clever little swallow flew away. I presume you are familiar with the sentiment by now." This time, the smile is openly hostile.

"Unlikely." Akashi says dismissively. "I have no use for the mindless flutter of a bird."

Chengyi's eyes glitter with something sharp and dangerous. "But that is the beauty of a bird with clipped wings. They don't flutter." Chengyi's eyes flicker to Tetsuya, but this time, when their gazes meet, Tetsuya holds it. He has seen glimpses of Akashi's darkness, he has seen the depth of his own lingering darkness, but both pale in comparison to the void he sees in Chengyi's soulless eyes. For a moment it feels like Tetsuya is sucked into the void.

It lasts only for a moment, before Chengyi pulls his attention back to Akashi.

Akashi's eyes are trained on his guest, but he has yet to reply. Chengyi's lips curl again, cold and sharp and triumphant above all. "Of course." He throws back the rest of his sake cup with a flourish. „There is no place in your mind for unearthly things. Isn't that right wisteria child?"

Midorima next to them makes an aborted movement, reaching out and then stopping, right as Akashi affects a smile one could call gentle, weren't it for the sharp, dangerous glint in Akashi's eyes - pupils shifted into a vertical tilt. "If the only status you can invoke is one granted by the fickle will of gods, how brittle your grasp on power must be. I wonder… how does it feel to fight for every scrap with your brothers?"

The air seems several degrees colder all of a sudden. Tetsuya can feel the tension prickle on his skin like air before a thunderstorm. Only the tension building seems less explosive, than _consuming_. Like everything will be sucked into the void that will inevitably open when these two men clash.

There is the very real sensation of terror settling in Tetsuya's belly.

And just when he thinks they two of them are going to collide, Fujiwara speaks up. "Now, now, let's talk about something else, shall we?"

Chengyi's smile is pleasant but laced with poison. "Of course." The glint in Akashi's eyes subsides.

There is not a sliver of doubt in Tetsuya's mind that whatever crisis Fujiwara just averted, it would have been Chengyi who would have paid for it. Akashi's face is unreadable.

Dinner continues under the umbrella of mindless chatter among the guests, but no one can quite forget the earlier tension. Glances fly from Chengyi to Akashi and back, but whatever went down between the two of them, seems to be forgotten for now.

Ogiwara quietly explains the current status of their relations to Cathay, adding in tidbits of information of the men surrounding prince Chengyi. He has little to offer however about the man himself.

Tetsuya has almost forgotten about his earlier bad feeling. Chengyi's presence had overshadowed his worries with more pressing issues. He had tried, halfheartedly, to keep an eye out on Nakano and Suzuki, but they had done little to award suspicion so far. And it wasn't easy to keep his focus when he was still battling with exhaustion, especially after the long day he just had. He still hadn't gotten enough sleep.

Chengyi's attendants had stayed mostly by his side during the meal, but occasionally one would leave his side to fetch him something. None of the court ladies had been allowed close. By now the strict sitting arrangement has loosened up and people have traded places to talk with friends or other visitors; there is a constant coming and going.

He watches idly as one of Chengyi's attendants leaves his side, empty flask in hand to fetch some more sake from the burner at the side of the room. Tetsuya's mind is a bit sluggish, as he's busy fighting the constant yawns that threaten to rise from his throat, so it takes a moment for it to settle in that there is a filled bottle of sake right in the hands of one of Chengyi's other servants.

Abruptly, his exhaustion is gone.

The man weaves through the bustling servants and court ladies, face hidden by his veil and nothing hints at his intention being anything else but getting sake.

But Tetsuya has grown up around people who tread a way dangerous plaster than a court banquet.

The man bumps into one of the ladies walking past, turning half to apologize with a bow. The action, and it wasn't anything but that - intent can only be masked so far - has brought him to face Akashi, who's currently engaged in a discussion with one of the dignitaries that had come with Chengyi.

There's a split second where neither Tetsuya nor the man move, but then the man shakes his sleeve to reveal a long thin knife. The empty bottle drops to the ground as the man surges forward. At that point, Tetsuya is already moving.

Something happens when he's entering a fight. Time seems to slow marginally, his focus sharpens on his target, while his peripheral perception widens, until every detail, every little thing that happens around him, filters through to his mind. It always comes with a surreptitious temptation, a pull to give in to the darkness residing in his heart. If he ever does give in, Tetsuya has no doubt he'll lose more than just his soul.

He catches various movements from the corner of his eyes, of which only one sticks truly out. A flash of purple, gray and metal, as Murasakibara reacts to the threat, but by then Tetsuya already has intercepted the man. He's good, he sees him coming and dodges his initial attack, but Tetsuya reads through him as easily as it were a book, blocking the following attack with a jab to the man's wrist, locking the joint so that the man has to drop his weapon.

The man grunts but brings up his other fist for a punch that Tetsuya dodges by dropping under the attacker's reach. He hooks his foot behind the man's ankle and pulls. He comes down hard, one hand all but useless and the other flailing as he attempts to regain balance, but another kick to the man's knee seals his fate. Tetsuya follows, digs a knee in the man's back. Robes settling around them in a soft flutter of fabric.

The needle Tetsuya has pulled from his sleeve is pressed against the nape of the man's neck, insistent enough to remind him of the consequences of resisting.

The whole thing takes less than five seconds. The entire room is bathed in shocked silence.

Tetsuya's breath in calm measured puffs of air, as the world slowly shifts back to its normal flow.

"Look at that, your little swallow has its own set of claws." Chengyi, of course, has no regard for the gravity of the situation.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * shoji _In traditional Japanese architecture, a shōji (障子?) is a door, window or room divider consisting of translucent paper over a frame of wood which holds together a lattice of wood or bamboo_
> 
> *Chengyi Hua Gong is a literal translation of Makoto Hanamiya's name into Chinese.  
> Ling-Yan means clever swallow.
> 
> *Cathay = alternate name for China


	8. Silver Lining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank all of you who left a comment or kudos on this fic. I appreciate each and every one of you. It helps a lot with writing to know that there are people out there who enjoy what I do. So thank you for showing me your support. It means a lot, really.
> 
>  **Today's fun fact:** Akashi was supposed to die in the original concept of this story. There were a lot of messed up things to happen in that concept. I'm not sure if we've improved or not.

The trap springs as flawlessly as Seijuro had expected. He had kept a tight schedule on purpose, steering the Suzuki and his followers into a corner, until the only action they could take was one dictated by him. He’d set the stage, all that was left to do then was watch. Suzuki and Nakano had fallen right in with his expectations; Tetsuya on the other hand had surprised him.

Tetsuya is the calm in the center of a storm. None of the posted guards had managed to do more than take a step forward. Atsushi is halfway through the room and yet Tetsuya is already there, robes fluttering still in the aftermath of his movement. He’s perfectly poised, not a single line on his body betrays his tension. The hand he holds to the man’s throat is perfectly still.

Around him, people are panicking, shouting or simply too confused to move. Tetsuya’s unexpected interference has most of his palace guards at a loss on what to do, but some have regained enough sense to bring the situation back under control. A quick look affirms that Ryouta and Daiki have gone to block the exits as planned, so Seijuro allows himself to observe the enfolding scene from his seat.

“What is going on here?” Watanabe demands to know, looking around with obvious confusion. “Why is Kuroko-sama attacking Chengyi-sama’s attendant?”

“Why indeed?” Suzuki sneers.

“Ah, don’t worry about me.” Chengyi waves for one of his -real- attendants, holding out his cup for yet another refill. “I’m much more interested in who that man is.” The smile he affords Suzuki with is biting. Suzuki pales. “Just as I was thinking that I couldn’t recall bringing six attendants, this one decides to make such a disgrace of himself.” He shakes his head with a fake air of regret. “Truly a tragedy.“

“It is of no matter.” Nakano cuts in, face red with anger, but Seijuro doesn’t miss the knuckle-white grip he has on the table. “He dared to attack his Majesty; his life is forfeit.”

“Enough.” Seijuro says quietly, and the whole room falls silent. He motions Atsushi, who’s waiting at the periphery, forward. Tetsuya has yet to move a single muscle and Seijuro can’t help but be impressed. He can see the tendons where they stand out sharply on the assassin’s neck. Unlike Tetsuya, he’s frozen stiff in fear, held in place by the tiny piece of metal in Tetsuya’s hand.

Atsushi whispers something in Tetsuya’s ear, bending almost in half to do so. Tetsuya steps back with a motion so fluid, it seems as though he is floating through air. The only sound to be heard is the whisper of rustling fabric. The entire room follows him with their eyes as he walks back to his place besides Seijuro. He had seen glimpses of this Tetsuya before, but this is so much better than anything Seijuro had imagined so far.

With every passing second, the fear on Nakano’s face increases, while Suzuki manages to maintain a mostly composed expression. But even he can’t avoid the sweat beading on his skin. Seijuro could have them executed on the spot, but he intends to make a point.

Atsushi drags the man over to him. His veil has slid off, revealing an unfamiliar face of someone who’s decidedly not a foreigner. His eyes are wide as he stares up at Seijuro. In Atsushi’s hands he seems like a mere doll.

“Atsushi.” Seijuro says and injects the barest hint of a threat into his voice. Atsushi slams the man’s head on the floor, grinding his palm into its back until the man whimpers in pain. “Do not look at me.” Seijuro’s voice is cold.

“Who sent you?” He holds out a hand and Shintarou hands him a sword.

Someone in the audience gasps and Watanabe, who always ever stood out through lack of sense, dares to cry out in indignation: “Swords are prohibited during festivities.” He’s a moron as much as anything and Seijuro thinks not for the first time, he should get rid of him.

For now he settles on ignoring him.

Atsushi eases up his grip enough for the man to answer, but all they get is a muffled ‘I don’t know’. Seijuro’s patience is running unusually thin unusually fast. Akashi stands in a fluid motion and pulls the sword from its scabbard. The man whimpers again and tries to slide away from him but Atsushi holds him in place.

“Tell me who sent you.” He holds the tip of the sword against the man’s throat.

“Ah, ah, ah, Seijuro that won’t do.” Chengyi is reclining against the wall behind him, one of the servant girls draped over his lap, clearly looking terrified and not at all willing to be there. He will have to deal with that later. Chengyi has overstepped too many lines already. “You can’t trust a confession gained through force.”

His calm is betrayed by the familiar burning ache in his left eye. He can feel the pull of the _other_ him, a steady pulse under his skin that reminds him he could have his answers much easier. Seijuro ignores it. With the situation as it is, he might as well end up tearing Chengyi’s throat out - not an unpleasant thought, but disproportionately detrimental to the situation at large.

“Does that mean Chengyi-kun volunteers to offer an explanation?” Fujiwara’s voice is brittle and barely carries through the room, but he has no difficulties being heard. Chengyi doesn’t grimace, but he’s close, if the twitch of his eyebrows is anything to go by. “Now, I would say for once we might overlook the use of a blade, shall we?” Fujiwara looks around the room, seeking for anyone who might dare oppose him.

No one does. Fujiwara’s smile is satisfied.

Seijuro shifts the blade and a thin droplet of blood wells from the cut on the man’s neck. “Who sent you?” The man closes his eyes. He’s shaking now, hard enough for Seijuro to have to pull the blade away slightly as not to deepen the cut too much.

“I don’t know.” He repeats, eyes pressed close. “I haven’t met them in person.”

That doesn’t come as a surprise. Seijuro didn’t expect anything else, although it is quite vexing how long the man needed to come clean. It’s time for the next step in this farce.

“I know who the true culprits are.” Tetsuya says calmly. The reaction his words garner is quite impressive, as many of the guests seem utterly surprised by the mere presence of Tetsuya alone. More than one face carries an expression of disbelief. Seijuro slightly readjusts his plans in his head.

“Of course you do! I bet you are in with them, aren’t you?” Nakano’s found a bone to bite on to and he is not willing to let go. “You’re after the throne yourself, aren’t you?” Nakano points his finger at Tetsuya, spittle flying from his mouth. There’s a hint of craziness around his eyes.

“It does carry a certain irony for Nakano-san to say that.” Tetsuya’s voice is calm, but there is a distinct edge to his words.

Seijuro hands the sword back to Shintarou and returns to his seat. Nakano is still standing up on his knees, hands braced on his table, but now he’s trapped in Tetsuya’s gaze. He opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes out. He’s trapped as surely as the rabbit in the hunter’s trap - where Seijuro’s eyes can burn into one’s very soul, Tetsuya’s can be as cold and slippery as the frozen sea.

They _are_ the same after all.

“Are you saying Nakano-san has something to do with the attack?” Harasawa leans forward slightly, watching Tetsuya with keen interest.

“I do.” Tetsuya says quietly. He moves his eyes over to where Suzuki is sitting. “And Suzuki-san too.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence. Seijuro nods and with that, his palace guard is closing in on the two men. Nakano’s face is pale and drawn with fear, but Suzuki is retreating into anger. “LIES!” He slams a hand on the table, outrage clear on his face. “Why would we believe you, you filthy whore?”

Tetsuya’s eyes are cold, but his face betrays nothing of what he’s thinking at that moment. But Suzuki is far from done. He pulls out a knife he must have hidden somewhere in his clothes and uses it to hold the guards at a distance. Seijuro catches Atsushi’s eyes but signals him to wait for now.

“How dare you accuse me?” He points the hand with the knife at Tetsuya, grip so tight his knuckles stand out white. “You are nothing. You hear me? NOTHING.”

“Suzuki, it would do well for you not to insult our Queen.” Shirogane levels a disapproving look on the minister of the Center. His minister of Civil Services has always been a level-headed man, but Suzuki’s outbreak puts his patience to the test.

“You are in on it too? Is that what this is? A conspiracy against me?” He snarls viciously.

“Calm down Jurou.” Harasawa implores. “You’re making it only worse for yourself.”

“How come?” He snaps. He’s shaking, if with rage or fear or something else is hard to tell. “How could it be any worse than now? Now that we have _this_ on the throne.” He points the knife at Seijuro and Atsushi moves without prompting. He grabs the outstretched hand and twists until Suzuki screams and drops the knife. “You damn heathen.” He gasps out, despite Atsushi’s death grip on him. “You will burn in hell, just like your whore of a mother.”

“Put them away.” Seijuro orders icily. Had he still held the sword he would have beheaded the man right on the spot.

“It wasn’t us.” Nakano suddenly yells. “It was Imayoshi.”

“Oh was I now? You should have told me, I’d have brought an actual plan that works.” Shouichi’s smile is cheerful on the surface, but underneath is a razor sharp edge. He’s bordering on the edge of insolence more often than not, but there is a line Shouichi would never cross. He doesn’t take well to people who do.

“I’ll have no more of your lies. Bring them to the dungeon and take their tongues.”

The two men are dragged away, Suzuki kicking and screaming, Nakano limp and with all the fight drained from him.

Seijuro’s own triumph is marred by Chengyi’s triumphant and knowing smile.

He really needs to take care of that soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now tell me Tetsuya, who is the mastermind behind all this?” Akashi leans back in his chair and levels his eyes on Tetsuya. They’re in Akashi’s private rooms, seated around a low table with steaming cups of tea for everyone. So far, Imayoshi is the only one who’s had the muse to enjoy his tea. Tetsuya isn’t exactly sure of Imayoshi’s role in this, but it seems Akashi has had him placed among the would-be conspirators. Not just that, the whole day, from audiences to Chengyi’s reception had all been a setup to lure the traitors into a trap.

It makes Tetsuya feel kind of stupid for unnecessarily getting involved.

“I don’t know.” Tetsuya says flatly. He’s slightly uncomfortable, sitting across from Akashi, still in his ceremonial robes and surrounded by the men of the Imperial guard. He’s outwardly calm, but inside his heart is beating frantically against his chest. He can’t help the fight or flight response. The battle calm from earlier is all but gone.

“They might have mentioned him, after we left.” Imayoshi’s eyes are fixed on him, curious and inquisitive under his perpetually squinted eyelids. “Although, I do have to admit I’m quite curious as to how you managed to eavesdrop on us.”

“I sneaked into Suzuki-san’s reception room. You closed the door when you left. I could no longer hear what was spoken after that.” Tetsuya explains and hopes no one will ask how he got there.

“Dear Sakurai, always too polite for his own good.” Imayoshi shakes his head in mock regret. “And how did you sneak in, pray tell?” Imayoshi leans forward, eyes widened until the full force of his grey eyes is focused on Tetsuya.

Before he can reply, before he can even think of what to reply, Kise startles them with a loud slap to his forehead. “I know! Kurokocchi used the underground network, right?” His eyes are bright and he’s looking at Tetsuya expectantly.

Tetsuya looks down. “Yes.” This might be the end of his nightly excursions. So far Akashi had been awfully quiet. Tetsuya has no idea what he is thinking.

“You found and entry point?” Kise asks, obviously enthused about the idea. “Where?”

“I must say I’m impressed.” Midorima says stiffly. He clutches a knitted scarf in his hands. The bright colors draw on Tetsuya’s attention, like a string tied to fate.

“Yeah, me too. That was awesome.” Aomine is grinning, eyes gleaming with something akin to admiration. “You need to show me how to fight like that. I kind of want to challenge you to a duel, just to see if I could beat you.”

“No fair.” Kise complains. “I haven’t beaten you once.”

“That’s because you’re no good.” Midorima shoots Kise an annoyed glance. Kise just pouts.

“So noisy.” Murasakibara’s eyes are half closed and he seems moments away from falling asleep. It’s definitely an odd situation, considering what they’ve just come from. Akashi, meanwhile, seems to be lost deep in thought.

The familiarity is soothing though, as strange as it is.

“It is of no matter.” Akashi finally says. “Leave us.” For a moment Tetsuya thinks it’s him he’s addressed, but then Imayoshi stands with a sly smirk and a halfhearted salute, the others following shortly after. Moments later Tetsuya is alone with Akashi. The situation is made better and worse all the same by the new constellation. Tetsuya is fairly confident that he stands a chance against Akashi alone and he fells less trapped with only one person in his way. But at the same time he can no longer hide in the presence of others, Akashi’s attention is focused on him undivided.

“You are nervous.” Akashi observes. His eyes are cool; no sign of that other Akashi. No sign of the man that still haunts Tetsuya’s dreams.

Tetsuya doesn’t reply. He doesn’t think he shows much, but even now Akashi’s eyes seem to see right through him. He can’t help the shudder that runs down his spine, half born from memories, half from instinct.

“You should be aware that your effort was unnecessary.”

“I am.” Tetsuya says blandly. It’s not that he needed a reminder for that.

“Which is not to say, I don’t appreciate your effort.” There’s an odd expression on Akashi’s face, one that Tetsuya knows well enough, but he has never seen it on Akashi’s face. Something that seems to have no place there, but it still serves to captivate Tetsuya’s attention.

And more than Akashi’s commanding presence ever did, it seems to coax words from Tetsuya’s mouth he never intended to say. “It could be all part of my plan to win Akashi-kun’s trust.”

“Then you have succeeded.” The words are surprising enough to pull a reaction from him, as small as it is.

Akashi doesn’t miss it. He smiles. It’s a different smile than usual, warmer, less a show of dominance and closer to endearment. It only serves to throw Tetsuya off further.

“I could be…” Tetsuya swallows. He doesn’t even know how to finish that sentence. He could be what? Dangerous? A liar? He’s both of those, but it’s not what he wants to say at that moment. Instead, he finds himself trapped in Akashi’s intense gaze.

“Don’t take me lightly Tetsuya.” Akashi’s voice has dropped lower for some reason; a note of warning, but unlike all the times before, Tetsuya doesn’t feel scared or threatened. He doesn’t want to escape the snake, instead he feels an odd sense of attraction, unlike anything he’s felt before.

“I would know if you were a danger to me.” And it’s odd how much he can convey just by the inflection of his voice. Tetsuya shudders. He couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to.

Tetsuya’s hand tenses unconsciously, the tips of his fingers brimming with coiled up energy. He _is_ dangerous and they both know it. But they also both know that he would never lift a hand against Akashi-

He’s struck by the thought how beautiful Akashi is.

For some reason that thought isn’t as strange to him as it should be.

“You have gained my trust Kuroko Tetsuya. You can have from me whatever you desire.” The words are murmured in the vicinity of his ear, a thick and hot whisper over his skin. There’s a moment when Tetsuya thinks they will kiss, for the fraction of a second he’s sure he will go after it even. But then he remembers another night, another moment trapped in Akashi’s gaze and the spell breaks.

He thinks he might go crazy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s odd how much things can change, while so much stays the same. His daily routine is still the same, mostly, but things have definitely changed. He’s no longer just the token price of a political marriage. For the first time in forever, Tetsuya feels like he is his own person again.

He hadn’t even been aware how much he’d lost himself in the shadows of his existence.

And yet.

The nightmare that wakes him is tinged red and gold, but Tetsuya can still feel the cold press of stone against his skin. It’s still dark, the middle of the night, but Tetsuya knows he won’t be able to go back to sleep. Nights like these, Kagami used to keep him company, guarding his sleep against the fear that lingers in the darkness of his memories. But Kagami is not here and Tetsuya only needs to close his eyes to be back in his dream.

He thinks of going out for a nightly excursion, but there’s no real point. He’s been given freedom to roam the entire palace, even to leave and visit the city outside. It is a powerful thing, the trust of Akashi Seijuro.

He could still go, but Tetsuya can’t bring his body to move.

The guards in front of his doors no longer follow him when he’s on his own. He’s not free, not by far, but for the first time he can go wherever he wants to without restrictions. It’s been three days since the assassination attempt – Suzuki and Nakano await their execution in two days – but Tetsuya still hasn’t grown used to that newfound freedom.

He doesn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Empress has always been a figurehead. A token of status and wealth, the base for Imperial succession. With the slow change of courtly power distribution came another shift, spearheaded by one Lady Shiori. Her heritage put her at odds with the religiously conservative court, but her personality secured her the hearts of the people.

Even today, her name is spoken either in reverence or disdain with little on the spectrum in between. She was the first to extend her attention outside the palace walls, visiting the people, listening to their woes and helping where she could.

Her family had once held the title of a noble house, much revered and powerful with vast lands to their name in the North. But after a failed uprising in the time of the sixteenth Emperor, the family had fallen into disgrace. Tetsuya knows little of the details, but he knows they disputed the divine will the Rakuzan based their claim on. Ever since then the family had been scorned as godless heathens.

Shiori has been dead for fifteen years now, a sickness took her away, but her shadow lives on in how people look at her son. Some blame her for Akashi’s religious ignorance, others love him for her deeds.

Still, Tetsuya can’t help but wonder if Shiori would have attended a public execution. His position would have dictated him to stay away, but the rules have been eroded ever since Lady Shiori was the Queen.

So much change has been carried by Lady Shiori’s shoulders.

“I expect you to bear witness.” Akashi says and that’s that.

It’s a public execution, a statement made as bold as possible, but what comes as a true surprise are the reactions of the people. Akashi is a good ruler, strict and absolute, but he is also _fair_. The two ministers and their conspiracy find no love among the common people.

And maybe that is Lady Shiori’s shadow too.

Still, it leaves a sick feeling in Tetsuya’s gut. Akashi had held true to his words, so there had been no screams, no words, just inarticulate gurgling. Even now Tetsuya only has to close his eyes and he can see the scene in front of him; Suzuki kneeling on the cold stone ground, his head placed on a wooden block and he knows too much how that feels, _too close_ and Tetsuya has to fix his eyes on something that isn’t the sharp red of life spilled on dirty floor.

He has yet to touch a single thing on his dinner plate.

Tetsuya can feel Akashi’s eyes on him, but he can’t bring himself to meet them, because one of them is as red as the blood he desperately tries to forget. His hands, he notes, are shaking.

They’re alone at the table, only Murasakibara is watching over them from a few paces back, the other guards absorbed into cleaning up the aftermath. He’s been in Akashi’s rooms a few times now, invited there for food, as it saves time for Akashi who’s often busy in his study. It’s an honor he’s been told, to be let into Akashi’s private chambers, but there is no space in Tetsuya’s heart to appreciate the progress he’s made. There’s just the phantom ache of a blade cutting into his neck, the feeling of life spilling out from a wound that should have killed him.

He wants to touch, to make sure his neck is smooth and unharmed, but he forces himself to be still. He didn’t think that after all this time, a simple scene like that could affect him that much.

“It needed to be done,” says Akashi, and it’s not justification but a statement and a reminder.

Tetsuya finally looks up, keeps his eyes carefully unfocused, so the red of Akashi’s hair and eye is just a vague blur. “I know. Traitors need to be dealt with. I simply don’t deal well with beheadings.” There is the feeling of anger in his chest. He doesn’t know why he’s angry, or why it’s so painful just to _look_ at Akashi.

“You have blood on your hands.” Akashi states as though it were any form of explanation.

“I have.” Tetsuya can’t stop the words. He spends so much effort on keeping everything inside, bottled up, but now the stopper’s gone and everything just spills out.

He hadn’t thought himself so fragile, not after half a lifetime has passed.

Akashi doesn’t reply, just looks at him and his shaking failure at composure and Tetsuya’s eyes finally give in to reveal the sharp cut of scarlet strands and a scarlet iris juxtaposed with gold. He hasn’t just killed. He has done so much more. He who laid at the butcher’s mercy and knows the fear so intimately it follows him in his dreams; he has become the butcher himself. He hasn’t just taken lives. He had killed and he had _enjoyed_ it. Life bleeding out from under his bare hands and it had satisfied a part of him he hadn’t even been aware existed until then.

He had always ever thought the Teikou creed to be empty words and an attempt at grandeur, but that moment he had realized how true they were. He is darkness, as much as he is light.

Riko had put the knife in his hand and told him to never use it to kill. She had put the barrier in place, something Tetsuya could cling on to as a reminder that life was precious and irreplaceable. And Kagami, stupid, lovable Kagami had taken his shaking hands, months later, when they had been so close to disaster, had held his shaking hands in his own bear like paws and made him that promise with so much sincerity it still hurts Tetsuya’s heart.

_I kill for you so you don’t have to._

Tetsuya wonders how much of that he can tell Akashi. He wonders how much of it he _wants_ to tell Akashi.

“Tell me, how much worse can a rightful execution be compared to the life you have taken with your own hands?”

Tetsuya feels the hair on his nape rise in prickling anticipation. Akashi’s eyes flicker to his neck, or maybe that’s just his imagination. There’s a lump in his throat he can’t seem to swallow past.

He can’t face this, he can’t look into the mirror that are Akashi’s eyes, so Tetsuya summons the cold of ice and steel and lets it seep through his being. It freezes the fluttering beating of his heart, until the pain is merely a dull edge lodged in his chest. His darkness always came in the cloak of a friend.

The smirk that stretches on his lips feels unnatural and fake, but Tetsuya can’t bring himself to care. “What do you think?” He asks, voice full of challenge and the desperate itch for a fight to blunt the edge of his memories. “How many lives does one have to take until it feels natural? Would you even know?” Tetsuya is looking down on Akashi, but he can’t quite remember having gotten up on his feet. “Have you ever taken a life with your own hands, instead of just an order from your mouth? Tell me Akashi Seijuro, how many lives have you sacrificed for your ambitions?”

A strong hand closes around his wrist and Tetsuya belatedly realizes he’s not just standing over Akashi, he also holds his butter knife firmly clutched in his fist. Something dissolves in his chest at the sight. His hand loosens and the knife drops on the ground with a clutter, while Tetsuya is shaking. Murasakibara still holds his wrist, but his grip is softer now, almost gentle.

“You shouldn’t have made me watch.” Tetsuya says bitterly. He tugs at his arm, but Murasakibara has yet to release him. “You can let me go now, I won’t do anything.”

“Aka-chin?” Murasakibara is looking at Akashi, and for all the danger he could have posed to Akashi, none of it betrays on his face.

Akashi looks him over. “I was wondering what would be needed to let your mask slip. I didn’t think you this adverse to death.” He waves a dismissive hand and Murasakibara lets him go. “What happened to you?”

The anger is gone and Tetsuya slumps back into his chair. “What do you think?” Now he merely sounds tired. “Someone tried to kill me, obviously.” He places a hand on his neck, soothed by the smooth texture of his skin that belies the scar that could have - _should have_ \- ended his life. “They failed. I lived.” And no, for all the blood he has spilled, he can’t bear the sight of someone laid out for slaughter.

He thinks he sees a shadow flit through Akashi’s eyes, but he might have imagined it.

“Who wanted to kill you?” Akashi’s voice is blank, carefully devoid of any emotion giving away what he really thinks. Tension frizzles over Tetsuya’s skin, as though the air is loaded with an oncoming thunderstorm. His outburst has left him tired and exhausted, too little sleep and too many nightmares have done the rest. He doesn’t understand what exactly changed between him and Akashi, except he holds his trust now, but that wouldn’t account for the acceleration of his heartbeat just because Akashi is looking at him.

He doesn’t know and it scares him.

“It doesn’t matter.” _Not yet_. He should tell him now, but Tetsuya can’t bring himself to. Not when there’s still so much he doesn’t understand. There’s still time after all.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Akashi says, carefully enunciating each word.

“But that is not for you to decide.” Tetsuya says evenly.

“Oh?” Akashi raises one eyebrow and leans forward. “You are my consort, Tetsuya. I would say everything about you concerns me.”

Tetsuya holds his gaze. “Why?” Why do you care _now_?

“Because I want to know you Tetsuya. All of you.” Akashi’s eyes are oddly gentle.

Tetsuya wonders why it sounds so much like a threat. He wonders how their relationship has changed so substantially, without him noticing. And a small part of him can’t help but wonder what he would have done just now, if Murasakibara hadn’t stopped him.

How deep his fear must root, if he hasn’t even an answer for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There had been many reasons for his marriage to Kuroko Tetsuya. Watanabe Jun had listed most of them when he had first proposed the idea to Seijuro. He’d been a pawn, a bumbling idiot with no sense at all, his position owed to his family’s prestigious status. But the arguments he’d offered had been well served to entice.

Seijuro had eventually agreed, not because of the reasons presented, but because of a conversation he had had with his minister of military. Imayoshi Shouichi had always outshone his position.

_“Look at it from this point of view. You’ll need a wife eventually, and from what I’ve heard, this one might actually be useful.” Shouichi says with one of his lazy half smirks._

_“In what way?” Seijuro quirks an eyebrow. He has some ideas himself, but he wants Shouichi to elaborate his point._

_“He’s the Teikou’s oldest son.”_

_“Is he now?” Seijuro values Shouichi’s ideas a great lot, but he has the unnecessary habit of dragging a conversation in bits and pieces._

_“I suppose one of the reasons they want to marry him off is to get him out of inheritance line. They do have a tradition of inheriting to the oldest child, indiscriminately.”_

_“Disinheritances are not unheard of.” Seijuro has an inkling where this is going, but he won’t yet take the bait._

_“They can be undone.” Shouichi’s eyes are gleaming from where they peek out through his ever squinting eyelids. “If he inherits the Teikou name, you’ll have them under your heel. I doubt dear Kuroko Tetsuya is much of a competition for you. There_ is _a reason after all, why his family wants him gone.”_

_“Not all of them are favorable, I presume.”_

_“No.” Shouichi leans back in his chair. “But sometimes you have to invite the snake into your home to defang it.”_

_Seijuro’s smile is razor sharp._

Amusement tickles him when he thinks back to that conversation. In a way Shouichi had hit the nail right on its head. Tetsuya is as fast and dangerous as a snake, but Seijuro has no intention of defanging him. He wants to peel off all the layers of secrets Tetsuya has wrapped himself in, until he can see what lies underneath.

And he wants to know why the Teikou were willing to lose all the assets Tetsuya could have offered to them. More than that, he wants to know who put that scar on Tetsuya’s neck, when he is as fierce and untouchable as he is.

Seijuro stares at his hand. He wanted to reach out and comfort Tetsuya with this very hand at dinner, wanted to reassure him until the haunted look was gone from his eyes. Seijuro thinks of the wedding night, of Tetsuya’s unresisting body, reined in by his will, when he could have put up so much of a fight.

Every attempt at sending spies to investigate the Teikou had failed so far, their secrets as tight lipped as a fortress. But with every puzzle piece that falls into his hands, Seijuro is one step closer to unveiling the secret that surrounds his consort.

Even after nearly a month of marriage, he still doesn’t understand Kuroko Tetsuya. For once though, the desire to understand is not born from the desire to dominate.

His dreams that night are oddly pleasant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Tetsuya finds his breakfast soup with so much salt it’s become inedible. His breakfast is plenty enough for him not to mind all that much, but he still has to keep a very outraged Sumire from raining retribution down on the kitchen. Ayame is so distraught she can barely speak and it takes a while for the two of them to calm down.

A few days later when he finds the strings of his favorite pair of hakama pants torn, after it had been out for laundry, he decides not to mention it. Shion mends it quietly and brings him a lemon cake later that day in way of a silent apology.

None of it is coincidence, but Tetsuya has yet to determine what it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kagami comes by one night to tell him his brother is preparing for something, but they have yet to find out what. He also brings a gift from Shizuka, dried leaves strung together into a puppet that crumbles under Tetsuya’s hands. She used grass to attach a braid of hair and Tetsuya doesn’t need Kagami’s explanation to know who it’s supposed to be.

“She said you must be lonely without her.”

The only thing he regrets is that he has nothing to give her in return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His relationship with Akashi is not the only one that changes.

Nakajima invites him for tea a few times, and he’s glad for the opportunities to relax from his busy court routine. But that’s as far as his respite go.

Kise becomes a regular visitor to his rooms, often dragging him out for a ride or something else. Momoi accompanies him to many of his court meetings, usually ending up in an engaged conversation with Ogiwara as both have exuberant bubbling personalities and a need to converse that Tetsuya simply can’t fulfill. Tetsuya is only glad Kise doesn’t join in too.

Murasakibara sometimes brings him snacks, after expressing his worry once that Tetsuya is too small and needs growing. Tetsuya refrains from telling him there won’t be much more growing for him to do at age 23. It’s the thought that counts He shares his snacks with Ogiwara or his maids, much to their delight, but only after Tetsuya convinced them he simply couldn’t eat that much food on his own.

And then there is Aomine.

Aomine shows up one day in his reception room, usual uniform replaced with a dirty pair of pants and a shirt that has seen many a better days, for all the holes and tears and the skin it exposes. Tetsuya thought he had come to terms with what happened, but the sight pulls up some of his memories and he is transported back to that night, when he had seen a lot of that body too.

The feeling erodes under the blinding brilliance of Aomine’s smile.

The nightmares, for that matter, have receded too.

“Hey Tetsu.” Aomine greets with an excited grin. A lot of things flit through Tetsuya’s mind, the thing most forefront is that Kagami, his best friend and de facto brother, never called him anything but Kuroko. Still, it feels oddly nice to be called with so much endearment.

“Good morning Aomine-kun.”

“You wanna come to the training grounds with me? I want to see if I could beat you.” Sumire covers her gasp with a cough in the background, clearly scandalized by Aomine’s appearance, or proposal or probably both.

Tetsuya thinks about it. Ogiwara had come by earlier to tell him, the court meeting scheduled for today had been canceled and he was to do as he pleases. Usually, Momoi and/or Kise would show up on days like this to drag him wherever, but since Aomine beat them to it today, Tetsuya thinks he has the liberty to choose for himself.

“Very well.” He hasn’t had a real challenge in a while after all. Aomine’s answering smile is a bright beam of pure delight. In a way, Tetsuya thinks, Aomine is a very simple man.

Kise had shown him the training grounds, but this is the first time he actually enters. Aomine leads him along the edge of a large field, trampled dirt covering the ground, with many people - palace guards and the like Tetsuya presumes - practicing with various weapons, alone, with a partner or on one of the many straw dummies strewn about.

There’s a collection of buildings next to the field, equipment storages and behind are parts of the guard’s barracks and even an indoor training hall. On the other side is a field for archery practice. Tetsuya is once again taken aback by just how vast the palace grounds are; an infinite amount of space just to maintain the whims of one person.

Many heads turn to follow them as they make their way to the armory. Shion had handed him a set of well tailored training clothes, as though she’d anticipated something like this, a fact he’s very much grateful for. It can’t be helped that he still stands out against the primarily bulky forms of soldiers and guards.

The armory is a small room, filled with weapons and shields in all shapes and sizes, but according to Aomine it’s only for practice. A larger one, closer to the gates, holds all the real equipment. And Tetsuya finds indeed, each and every weapon blunted or covered with fabric.

Tetsuya had been given a sword once for training, but after almost tipping over from the weight, Riko had decided to focus on small weapons, which had essentially meant Tetsuya had to work his knuckles raw until Riko allowed him to hold his first knife.

Tetsuya takes his time to examine, before he has his pick of a short slightly curved knife that has definitely seen better days, but the weight of it balances nicely in his hands.

“You sure you want to go with _that?_ ” Aomine makes no effort to hide his surprise. Tetsuya flips the knife in his hand, testing the weight in varying positions and Aomine seems to contemplate his imminent fate.

Any weapon, Riko had said, needs to feel like an extension of your arm. Make your hand a weapon and anything you can grasp firmly will become just as deadly.

Aomine accepts his choice with a shrug, before picking himself a shiny new one handed sword with a straight blade and an exaggerated cross guard. He doesn’t pick up a shield and Tetsuya wonders if he’s taken lightly or if Aomine is really that much like Kagami - going out into ay fight with nothing but his deadly skill as a cover.

Aomine runs laps for warm-up, while Tetsuya prefers stretching to ease his muscles into motion.

They take up position in a free spot on the fencing yard. There were plenty of duels and sparring matches going on when they arrived, but now everyone has gathered to watch their fight. Only a few guards had seen it, but the word has spread quite far and now everyone wants to see the rumored fighting skills of the Queen.

Tetsuya is not used to this much audience, but it will work well enough in his favor.

Aomine’s fighting stance is loose and all too open, but he holds his sword with the kind of easygoing nonchalance that hints he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Oi Wakamatsu, make yourself useful and play referee, will you?” Aomine shouts to one of the men watching. The man, a guard judging by the cut of his pants shoots Aomine a very dirty glare but steps forward all the same.

Tetsuya falls into his stance with practiced ease; legs slightly bent and ready to launch him off into an attack.

“I hope he kicks your ass.” Wakamatsu grumbles and raises his hand. “Okay, go ahead, don’t kill yourselves.” He doesn’t quite sound as though he cares, but he still levels them both with a hard stare as though to remind them to play fair. His hand comes down, and with that the match starts.

No one moves. Aomine sizes him up, stance still loose and arrogant. He is obviously waiting for Tetsuya to make the first move. It’s harder than usual like this. Aomine’s focus is centered on him and there is little that offers distraction, but Tetsuya has enough experience to make up for it.

Someone in the audience shifts, Tetsuya diverts Aomine’s attention with the flicker of a hand and that’s all it takes to vanish from Aomine’s sight.

The next moment he’s in Aomine’s space, blunted edge of his knife pressed against Aomine’s pulse point.

Aomine tries for an instinctual retreat, stepping backwards, but Tetsuya follows smoothly, without allowing him to gain a single breath of distance. They remain like this for a few moments, Aomine’s eyes are wide and disbelieving, the audience shocked into silence.

His mentor calls it misdirection, Tetsuya calls it consequence.

“Alright, you win.” Aomine drops his sword in defeat and Tetsuya steps away. Aomine rubs a hand over his neck. Tetsuya had applied enough pressure to be felt, but the blunt edge hadn’t cut any skin.

“Eh, What just happened? Wakamatsu asks dumbly from the sidelines. The whole thing had been over and done in less than ten seconds, but not everyone in the audience seemed to have caught up yet.

Aomine has a snarky reply on the tip of his tongue, it’s so obvious Tetsuya doesn’t have to strain to see it, but he thinks better of it once he catches Tetsuya’s gaze. He blushes the faintest shade of pink and clears his throat.

“I want a rematch.” He demands and Tetsuya resumes his earlier position without comment.

Wakamatsu shakes his head. “You two are crazy.” He mutters under his breath and is promptly smacked up the head by the master of arms, Kasamatsu Yukio.

“Mind your manners.” He lectures before stepping forward. “I’ll take over from here. The rest of you, take a good look and then go back to your own practice. I don’t tolerate slackers.”

This time Aomine doesn’t wait for him to make the first move. Tetsuya dodges his first strike, knocks away his second with the hilt of his knife and then distracts Aomine’s attention with a furtive flutter of his left hand. Aomine freezes again with Tetsuya’s knife against his neck.

Aomine’s throat jumps against the blunt press of the blade and Tetsuya retrieves his hand. It always leaves an unpleasant feeling in his gut, feeling another’s lifeline so close under his hand and knowing how easily it can be torn. He’s glad his knife doesn’t cut.

He pulls it off two more times, before Aomine manages to parry his first strike. Tetsuya checkmates him with his next attack, dropping under Aomine’s reach and hamstringing his legs by tipping his knife to Aomine’s calf and having Kasamatsu call it out for him. Moments later he has his knife on Aomine’s throat again.

They stop for the day then, but Aomine’s at his door the very next day and doesn’t let up until he has figured out a way to counter Tetsuya’s misdirection by not looking at him directly. It works well enough, up until the point Aomine realizes Tetsuya’s skills go beyond vanishing attacks.

Tetsuya trades his knife for a slightly longer dagger with a proper cross guard and from then on they’re trading blows in matches that even out the more they practice.

Kise, as soon as he catches wind of what they are doing, pesters Tetsuya to fight him too. Their first match, he has Kise at the tip of his blade after less than five seconds. Their second match, after Kise has taken one look at how Aomine’s doing it, he catches Tetsuya’s blade with his own, holds it and almost brings him to heel with his next move.

Aomine may be the better sword fighter, but Kise is dangerous in his very own right. He has few moves of his own, but instead uses and combines the moves of others, modifies them until he’s an unpredictable flurry of steel.

Tetsuya finds most of his free time taken up by sparring after that. Aomine is a monster, and once he has figured out Tetsuya’s strongest skill, he has a hard time holding his own against Aomine’s sheer force of strength. Kise can be just as feral.

It’s the perfect practice experience.

And one day, much to Tetsuya’s surprise, he is invited by Midorima to practice archery with him. Tetsuya has been trained to shoot a bow on occasion, but he’s never been good at it. So when Midorima takes him out to the archery stands Tetsuya doesn’t expect to impress.

Midorima lets him shoot first. Tetsuya can shoot more or less straight and his arrows even land in the general vicinity and sometimes even on the target boards. Midorima though, just huffs an exasperated sigh, strings his own bow and sinks arrow after arrow with deadly precision. Tetsuya sets to watch instead.

Midorima’s form is perfect and his shots come smooth and with incredible speed. Tetsuya watches the flex of his fingers, unbandaged now, on the bowstring, watches the intense focus of his eyes as he hones in on his target. Midorima’s bow is almost as tall as he is. Every time he pulls it Tetsuya can see the ripple of his muscles. Despite the obvious effort of strength, Midorima makes it seem effortless.

Tetsuya tries again after that, emulating some of Midorima’s form and the result is marginally improved. Midorima drops advice every now and then, proper stance, breathing rhythm and once even goes on a lengthy tangent on the right wood for bows, all in a tone of voice that says he can’t be bothered really, yet he retains endless patience.

Archery is not his forte, neither his favorite, but Tetsuya keeps meeting regularly with Midorima for practice. A part of him he had never realized was strung taut relaxes under the steady pull and release of a bowstring.

There’s a time when he thinks Murasakibara is going to challenge him to a match, and it leaves him with a certain amount of conflict. All of Tetsuya’s opponents tend to be bigger in size, but while he can handle men like Aomine and Kise just fine, there is a line that Murasakibara crosses. He might be able to handle him if he pulls all the stops, but that is a risk he won’t take.

It’s just as well that Murasakibara can’t seem to be bothered to do much practice at all.

And then, one day the entire practice yard, by now used to the high stake battles in their midst, falls silent yet again, when Akashi Seijuro strides on the field between them.

Tetsuya is in the middle of warm up when he arrives.

He is wearing traditional clothing, a kimono and hakama pants and behind him walks Mibuchi with a slender katana in his hands.

“Tetsuya.” He greets with a nod. “Do me the honor of facing me.” He doesn’t wait for Tetsuya to reply before he reaches out his hand for his sword.

Aomine pats his shoulder and Kise wishes him good luck and then he’s alone in a circle of men, like he was the first time he fought Aomine. Katanas are rarely ever in use anymore, due to their inferiority to the now common long sword, but Tetsuya supposes he has little to say on the matter with his own choice of weapon.

And the way Akashi handles the sword - sharp edged as Tetsuya notes - makes him think of something decidedly deadly.

The dagger Mibuchi hands him is familiar and Tetsuya recognizes with a sharp pang the weapon Kagami handed him his first night here. Akashi’s smile is knowing.

Tetsuya feels the cool press of metal in his hands, his mind already sinking into the familiar battle trance. The danger that oozes from Akashi has him loose his grip, but he keeps himself from dropping the knife. Losing control now would be dangerous.

Tetsuya adjusts his battle stance, until he’s facing Akashi with the left side of his body. Akashi slides off the scabbard and drops it to the side. He knows without trying that misdirection won’t work against Akashi.

Kasamatsu gives the signal.

The match is short. Akashi is good, even with an outdated weapon. He meets every of Tetsuya’s offenses and leaves his defense reeling on every strike. It barely takes more than half a minute, before Tetsuya is kneeling in the dirt, dagger out of range and the edge of Akashi’s blade against his neck.

And even while the gravel digs into his knees, Tetsuya wonders how this duel might have ended if neither of them had held back.

“You fought well, Tetsuya.” Akashi’s voice sounds oddly proud and Tetsuya can feel his heart do something it’s never done before. It skips a beat. It ties the tongue in Tetsuya’s mouth, any words he might have said remain stuck in his throat.

After Akashi’s official approval, more and more people see themselves fit to challenge him. Mostly it seems just to be a dare to go up against the Emperor’s consort, as he has yet to be beaten by anyone else but Akashi.

Among the first of his new challengers is a quick-footed man who sees right through his misdirection on his first try. Tetsuya fends him off on skill alone, but it’s a close call. The man, as it turns out, is Midorima’s personal attendant Takao Kazunari.

Takao takes his loss in stride and throws his arm around Tetsuya’s shoulders afterwards. “Shin-chan told me about your little trick.” He tells him with a broad and happy grin. Shin-chan, Tetsuya notes, must be a nickname for Midorima. How very… odd. “Sorry that it didn’t work on me.” His laughter sounds more like a cackle and as far from sorry than a newborn duck from grace.

“I’m kind of like your natural enemy with my hawk eye.” Tetsuya doesn’t prompt, as Takao is all too eager to explain how his eyes work, perception based on some outwardly located sense that allows the user to see a specific area from all angles. It’s a familiar ability, although Takao’s is slightly superior to Izuki’s own eagle eye. A reason more, Tetsuya is glad they are not enemies.

“But you definitely need to show me how you did that.”

Tetsuya tells him rather bluntly that the technique won’t be of any use to him. Before Takao can give him a reply though, Midorima appears to drag him off somewhere, literally, by the scruff of his uniform shirt. Takao waves undeterred.

And just like that, Tetsuya has made another quite energetic friend.

Kasamatsu, who functions as the head instructor challenges him once to assess his strength, determining in the process that he’s fit to teach his pupil’s a few tricks. He’s a gruff kind of guy, master at keeping Kise in line when he gets overenthusiastic about something - usually Tetsuya as of recent - and many of the veterans come to seek his counsel, even after seeing many battles of their own.

Imayoshi challenges him a few days later. Tetsuya only needs to take one look at him to know he won’t fall for misdirection either and he can’t help but wonder if it’s coincidence that there’s this many people immune to his ability in one spot.

And Imayoshi does it by force of perception alone.

He also possesses quite the skills with a blade, but when it comes down to it, he can’t hold a candle to the raw power of Kagami, Tetsuya’s usual training partner. And that’s really what most of these duels come down to. How well his opponents would hold up against Kagami, and while Tetsuya is more or less on even footing with him, few of these people would come even close to standing a chance.

Maybe in time some of them will eventually measure up, like Aomine definitely and Kise, but there’s little they could have to compare to a man who has been trained for combat since he could walk.

Except Akashi, of course.

And Kagami, for that matter, runs entirely on pure and deadly animal instinct.

Takao is not the only friend he gains through these outings. Although friends might be stretching it a bit in some cases, but more and more people come to greet him on a personal basis as opposed to strict bowing.

And then there is Haizaki Shougo.

Haizaki had once been a member of Akashi’s personal guard, but then Kise surpassed him in skill and Haizaki was put in the regular palace guards instead. His skills are rumored to be on par with the other Imperial guards, but his bad attitude precedes him even further.

He challenges him a few weeks after his first match with Aomine, strutting on the training grounds with the air of someone who expects the world to be at his feet. Tetsuya instinctively takes a dislike to the man.

He pierces through Haizaki’s bubble of self-importance it with cold efficiency, his blade on Haizaki’s pulse point a breath of air after the match started. Haizaki’s eyes widen slightly and Tetsuya only gets the tightening of his jaw and the cold glitter in his eyes as a warning, before Haizaki’s elbow slams down to hit his side. Kuroko spins on the ball of his foot, using his momentum to bend his upper body out of the way of Haizaki’s attack.

The response runs on year old instinct. Tetsuya brings up his leg and uses the short moment of imbalance caused by Haizaki losing his target, to bring him down hard. Haizaki curses as he hits the ground, but tries to reach for Tetsuya’s leg. Tetsuya dodges him, drops in the same motion and digs his knees into Haizaki’ shoulder. He flips the dagger in his hand and brings it down, stopping only millimeters away from the artery in Haizaki’s neck.

“Yield.” He commands quietly.

Haizaki’s eyes are wide and he nods, or attempts to, before he remembers the blade edged close to his pulse point.

It’s not the last time Haizaki challenges him.

And with every time Tetsuya puts him into the dust, Haizaki’s resentment grows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things are going well and Tetsuya thinks he can finally tell Akashi the true reason why he’s here. All he needs is the right moment.


	9. Broken Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This cahpter contains rape and some non-graphic descriptions of violence. Also shit hits the fan.
> 
>  **Today's fun fact:** I had named Akashi's mom Atsuko, before Fujimaki revealed her name.

A few days later, Tetsuya thinks the moment might have come. Akashi has invited him over for dinner, and unlike all the other times before, this time they are alone. He might interpret too much into it, it might have a multitude of reasons that have nothing to do with him, but Tetsuya can’t help but think it is a show of trust.

He’s been more or less comfortable in Akashi’s presence, but he can’t deny the insistent pull between them. There is something irresistible that draws him towards Akashi, like how he is content to just watch Akashi, without any other intention than to just watch. How easily he can feel at peace so easily, just by knowing that Akashi is right next to him.

Or how the realization that he will dine alone with Akashi makes his heart flutter softly in his chest.

He’s not the only one who thinks this is a special occasion, as Shion has dressed him in a luxurious gown made from varying shades of blue silk, sleeves adorned with intricately designed birds. For once he has indulged Ayame in her constant desire to dress him up with ornaments, so now a beautiful pin of lacquered wood and a single Jasmine flower decorates his hair.

It strikes him then, when he is watching himself in the mirror that he could be as well trying to seduce Akashi. The thought is less appalling than it should be.

Unlike him, Akashi hasn’t dressed up for the occasion. He is wearing his usual choice of comfortable robes for private or informal occasions. The sting of disappointment comes as a surprise. The table in Akashi’s living room is already decked with plates and silverware. Akashi greets him with the faintest of smiles, but gives no indication of what he thinks of Tetsuya’s outfit.

A servant serves the food, quiet and efficient, before leaving them alone. Tetsuya thinks of the words Akashi said to him the day he prevented the assassination. _You have gained my trust Kuroko Tetsuya. You can have from me whatever you desire._ He should just go ahead and ask then, ask for his brother’s head on a silver platter.

For all his calm there sleeps an anger in him that can only be appeased by Shirai Toru’s blood.

“You have proven yourself quite the asset.” Akashi breaks the silence, eyes shaded by the flickering light of candles, but Tetsuya can feel their intensity regardless. “Although I do have noticed your education is lacking in some areas.”

Tetsuya meets his gaze. “I apologize for coming short of Akashi-kun’s expectations.”

Akashi shakes his head. “That is not what I’m referring to.” His voice is oddly… gentle? “Your combat skills are outstanding, and you have managed to find your way into the underground passages without help. You are quite talented, if I do say so myself. But you know little about the intricacies of ruling, although your counsel is wise at times.”

Maybe it’s the unsteady flicker of the candles, but Tetsuya thinks for a moment, both of Akashi’s eyes are red.

“I wasn’t groomed for ruling.” He’d almost said born, but couldn’t bring himself to in the end. Even after all these years, it’s hard to admit. He wasn’t meant to live past five. HIs death was supposed to buy his family prosperity, and yet he had lived - rejected by their Gods. For all that Tetsuya is glad for his life, he sometimes wonders why it was him that lived. Why it was his mother that had to die.

For a moment he thinks Akashi is going to ask him straight out, but then there’s that odd flicker of red on his left eye again. He wonders how many fractions of Akashi’s personality there are. Akashi’s smile is oddly sad.

Which one, Tetsuya thinks, is the real one?

“You still won’t tell me, will you?”

Tetsuya is confused for a moment, but then he follows the line of Akashi’s eyes to where they rest on the scar on his neck. He’s barely eaten anything so far, but just like that he feels no longer hungry.

“Is it painful?” Akashi asks before Tetsuya can think up a response.

Tetsuya opens his mouth to say it doesn’t hurt, before he realizes that Akashi isn’t inquiring after the physical pain. He closes his mouth without a sound. His hand finds its way to his neck without his intention.

Akashi tilts his head. He had touched the scar too. During their match, after he had brought Tetsuya to his knees, Akashi had reached out his hand and rested his fingers against the faint line on Tetsuya’s neck. He hadn’t said anything, but his eyes had been oddly guarded. For a moment Tetsuya had thought then Akashi was looking for something, as though he wanted to reassure himself that the pulse under his hand was still going.

He’s lost too much already. What happened to him must never be repeated.

But the words don’t come and even if they were, he doesn’t think he could bring them past the lump in his throat. This Akashi is too different, _too gentle_ and Tetsuya is rooted by the fear of what he might say if he _knew_. He’s braced himself to face Akashi the Emperor, but he has no strength in him to face an Akashi who is kind enough to pity him.

“Tetsuya.” Akashi sounds mildly worried and Tetsuya realizes he’s been staring unblinkingly for quite a while now.

“It’s nothing, Akashi-kun.” Tetsuya hears himself say, but it doesn’t sound like him at all.

Akashi smiles and Tetsuya wonders just what he thinks is funny, until he realizes that it’s not a happy smile at all. “I understand if you don’t want to tell me.” He picks up his cup and drinks, but Tetsuya gets the feeling he does it more to give him time than to quench his thirst.

“I told you I want to know you. I could force you to tell me, but I don’t.” Something changes about the intensity of Akashi’s eyes, like the one time he tried and drag out all of Tetsuya’s secrets with those eyes, only this time it’s not malevolent at all. “Won’t you tell me Tetsuya?” The intensity is the same, the _command_ is the same, but it’s so gentle and kind Tetsuya finds it almost impossible to resist.

Then again, why would he even want to?

“I…” His voice comes out hoarse, a scratch of sandpaper. “I was born to buy my family prosperity. That was my only purpose. Although it does appear I failed at that.” Tetsuya allows himself a short bitter smile. “I am the firstborn son, but in my family the firstborn child never inherits the family name. That’s why I’m a Kuroko and not a Shirai.

“My brother is the one who took over after grandmother died. He… I don’t know what his plans for the future are. My grandmother was very traditional. She-” Tetsuya swallows as images flash in front of his eyes. She was the one who… Tetsuya’s nails dig into the scar on his neck, he can feel the cut of the blade again and everything seems to drown in chants and incense.

He doesn’t even realize Akashi has gotten up until he’s right next to him, gently prying away his hand. Akashi is saying something, his mouth is moving, but Tetsuya can’t hear it over the rush of blood in his ears.

Tetsuya grabs Akashi’s hand and pulls him close until Akashi’s ear is right in front of his mouth. “My brother is not like me and I have no idea what he is thinking. If I were you, I would prepare myself.”

“What do you mean?” Akashi tries to move then; to face him but Tetsuya just tightens his grip.

“I mean, that I have absolutely no idea as to what my brother could be planning. And considering the kind of person my brother is, that scares me.” He finally releases Akashi, having said what he felt he needed to say, but not what he ultimately wanted to say.

It’s just as well.

They are still close, Tetsuya can count the lashes on Akashi’s eyes, and despite the situation, despite the still panicked beating of his heart, he finds he very much wants to.

“Your brother,” Akashi says slowly, “who is he?”

“Shirai Toru.” Tetsuya says with no small amount of bitterness. “A monster.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is much to think about, but Seijuro can’t find any rest to do so. He’s been more tired lately, his body demanding more sleep than usually. Chengyi had finally returned to Cathay, sulking after Akashi had reminded him of their power imbalance, but that doesn’t mean he has any less work to attend to. Meals with Tetsuya had been a way of relieving some of the stress, as his consort’s presence had the effect of calming him.

Tetsuya’s words are still fresh in his mind. They had parted shortly after, Seijuro deeming Tetsuya too distraught for any further discussion. He had pulled himself together, but he was still restless and haunted by something Seijuro could barely fathom.

He respected Tetsuya, had come to appreciate his assets as well as his personality, but at that moment Seijuro had been overcome with the irrational desire to crush any and all that had ever hurt Tetsuya. Such notion wasn’t entirely new to him, he was fiercely protective of his inner circle after all, but it had never hit him with that much force. And yet, at the same time he had found himself with the conflicting urge to wrap Tetsuya up in his arms, protect him from anything and everything until it was just the two of them.

Seijuro is pacing, irregular and uncharacteristic behavior for him, and the lazy drag of exhaustion at the edges of his mind is not helping.

Just what kind of person is Tetsuya’s brother? He has seen Tetsuya’s skill firsthand, there is so little out there he would have to fear, and yet. And yet. Seijuro stops his pacing. Tetsuya had beaten both all of his challengers, most of them with ease. It is hard to believe there is anything out there he would be afraid of.

Tetsuya is not alone, can’t be alone, someone had to teach him these skills. And he even told him, about his _family_. There are people that care for Tetsuya, but there is something here - must be - that only Seijuro can give him. He can think of a number of things that would fit, if anything the choice is made difficult by all the many options.

Seijuro comes to the reasonable decision that there is only one way to find out.

Tetsuya likes to read before he goes to sleep, so he will still be awake now. Even if not, Seijuro wants answers and he is determined to get them.

The guards outside his door bow at his appearance. Reo had insisted on their presence after the failed assassination attempt, but Seijuro suspects it is more an effort to annoy him than of actual purpose. If someone of Tetsuya’s caliber would be after them, there would be little they could do. And if Seijuro’s suspicions as to who exactly trained him are true, then his abilities must pale to that of his masters.

Seijuro quietly opens the door to Tetsuya’s rooms. The reception room is dark and so is the living room. It seems Tetsuya has already retired to his bedroom.

Seijuro hesitates to knock. Something, some infallible instinct of his tells him not to, so Seijuro opens the door instead without knocking. He doesn’t know what has him so cautious, but he realizes it when he lays eyes on the scene in front of him.

Tetsuya is standing near the window, talking to a man Seijuro has never seen before. He’s tall and very obviously muscular under his tight dark leather outfit. A mop of unruly red hair sits on his head, and that’s as far as his observations go, before the man is already moving. He’s so fast Seijuro can’t find the time to react, all he sees is a blur of black and a metal glint that’s aimed at his throat and then,

“Kagami-kun.”

The man freezes, the blade of his knife only centimeters away from Seijuro’s throat.

The man - Kagami - glances back to meet with Tetsuya’s eyes. Tetsuya shakes his head slightly and Kagami drops his stance. Another glint of metal and the blade is gone, disappeared somewhere in Kagami’s clothes. He steps back, but leaves his eyes on Seijuro.

“I guess this had to happen eventually.” Tetsuya sighs and sits down on the bed. He seems mildly annoyed, but not surprised. And something about that quiet unruffled acceptance of the situation irks Seijuro.

“Akashi-kun this is Kagami-kun. He’s my confidant.” Facts. Statements. There is a hint of that cold steel again, as though Tetsuya wants to force him to accept this intruder just like that. The painful onset of his Emperor Eye hits him with unparalleled force and Seijuro has to close it momentarily.

He can feel the darkness twisting in his chest, but there is nothing he can do about it. Something about seeing Tetsuya so intimately with a stranger, someone who is apparently close to Tetsuya, someone who intruded on his property without permission - it has the careful balance in his mind teetering dangerously on that precarious edge between the fractured parts of his self.

He won’t tolerate this. The _other_ him won’t tolerate this.

“Tetsuya.” He says lowly. Kagami tenses, his hand falls to his side, practiced ease and the danger of a trained predator, but Seijuro can read right through it. Tetsuya stands up and steps into Kagami’s field of view. They make eye contact, only for a quick moment, but Kagami relaxes as though an order has been given. That small gesture, a line of command that has no business being there, where _his_ word is the absolute, is enough to tip the balance over.

 _He_ won’t tolerate defiance.

“What are you doing?” His voice is deceptively friendly, but he can see the flicker of Tetsuya’s eyes as he reads through his emotions. The things Tetsuya must see with those eyes of his. Who knows what he’s seen, where he has hidden. How easy it must be to walk unnoticed, to see so much and know what remains unknown to others.

“Kagami brought news from my family.” Tetsuya bows his head slightly, polite and perfectly composed. “It appears my brother is preparing a move, but we do not yet know what.” Seijuro takes the information and stores it for later. Now he has something else he needs to take care of.

Tetsuya’s mysterious brother, his family that practically exiled him and now this stranger that doggedly follows Tetsuya’s orders with unquestionable loyalty.

He wants to break it all.

“You have no right to bring strangers into my home.” There’s a threat now in his voice, hard and unforgiving. Kagami shifts, a hound on a chain but Tetsuya doesn’t give him more than the slight widening of his eyes. Fine. If he wants it to be it like this, Seijuro will play along. “You should know better than to go against me.” Tetsuya tenses slightly but doesn’t make a move and Seijuro’s lips curl into an involuntary smirk.

He can sense it, Tetsuya’s fear, the panic rising, as he must have realized how he miscalculated. Good. Seijuro doesn’t tolerate disobedience, even less after he extended his trust. Tetsuya will learn that soon enough.

“Stay here.” He says briskly before walking out of the room. He gives the guards outside an order and returns to the bedroom. Neither men have moved but Kagami’s face speaks volumes of what he’s thinking. His jaw is so tense it almost looks painful and he has his hands balled into tight white knuckled fists.

Atsushi is the first to arrive, closely followed by Shintarou. Both tense at the sight of Kagami, Atsushi reaching for his weapon, but refraining from pulling it after one look from Seijuro. Ryouta and Daiki appear shortly after, startled at the sight of the intruder, confusion more predominant than then the expected alarm. Ryouta looks from Tetsuya to Kagami and then to him, a confused question on his face that is mirrored by Daiki. The sight of it, of how close Tetsuya has become to his most trusted men shred the last of Seijuro’s control.

He sinks into the voice in his head, a whispered promise to make it all go away, to never lose and never be questioned. Because more than his anger at the betrayal, Seijuro can’t cope with the _hurt_ he felt when he saw Kagami and Tetsuya together so intimately. It should mean nothing to him, but it does.

The voice in his head drowns out the pain and Seijuro is glad to finally let go.

“Shintarou, would you be so kind and fetch Shougo.” His voice sounds different, but that’s just how it’s supposed to be.

“Akashicchi-“ Ryouta’s eyes are wide in shock but Seijuro cuts him off with a look. Shintarou still hasn’t moved. His face has gone pale. He can see Tetsuya tense from the corners of his eyes.

“Shintarou.” He repeats and the man turns on his heels to do his bidding. Atsushi’s dropped out of his usually bored expression and even Daiki looks as though he’s about to be sick. Ryouta’s eyes dance between him and Tetsuya, frantically but ultimately Seijuro’s words root him in place.

Kagami finally breaks his silence. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on Kuroko.” He glares at them, but still doesn’t move.

“Kagami-kun. Don’t interfere.” Tetsuya says and Kagami’s hands ball back into fists. What a formidable thing, the anger of this man, and yet so impotent under the tight grip of Tetsuya’s leash.

Seijuro bestows Kagami with a cold look, before sweeping his eyes back to Tetsuya. “You are mine now, to do as I please.” Tetsuya shows no reaction, not outwardly, but by now Seijuro has grown quite adapt at reading him.

He also knows that Tetsuya’s only real protection, his family name, holds no value anymore. Ironically enough, it was Tetsuya himself who revealed that to him.

Shintarou comes back a while later, Haizaki Shougo in tow, once a promising candidate for a position in the Imperial guard, but his attitude had convinced Seijuro to replace him with Ryouta. He is still a skilled fighter and he is still bitter about many things.

A resentful man is the perfect tool.

“Today’s your lucky day Shougo.” Seijuro says and the man’s eyes - predictably - lit up as he processes the information. He has his flaws, but lack of wit had never been one of them. “You can do as you please with him.” _As you’ve always wanted to do._

The smile that forms on Shougo’s lips is feral, a nasty sight and Ryouta lets out a subconscious growl, undoubtedly riled up by the presence of his biggest rival. Old resentments die hard, that is why Shougo is here after all. Tetsuya’s eyes are wide, the only clear evidence of his distress. Kagami makes to move a step forward but it’s Seijuro’s voice that stops him this time.

“Kill him if he moves.” He addresses his guards, but keeps his eyes on Tetsuya. For a moment it seems as though Ryouta is going to object, but in the end he doesn’t. He pulls his sword, following suit after Daiki and together they take up position, left and right of Kagami, blades against his throat. Atsushi covers the door while Shintarou shoots him a clearly worried glance. Shougo looks at him as if he wants to make sure he’s not going to take his word back, but as soon as he gets his assurance, he’s on the move.

Shougo grabs Tetsuya’s arm and throws him on the bed. Tetsuya doesn’t fight him, like he didn’t fight that first time. Seijuro wants to see how far that conviction will go, how much it will take to break Kuroko Tetsuya.

For a tense moment it seems as though Kagami is going to move after all, heedless of the blades on his throat but whatever connection he and Tetsuya have, it holds as he keeps him in check once again.

“Kagami-kun, it’s alright.” And finally all the fight flows from Kagami, he sinks his shoulders in defeat, mouth drawn into an angry line but it’s clear that he will no longer try and move. Seijuro looks at Tetsuya’s motionless form and suddenly he doesn’t quite feel like watching anymore.

“Kill him if he moves so much as an inch.” He repeats and both Daiki and Ryouta nod. “Don’t leave permanent damage.” He tells Shougo who’s bent over Tetsuya on the bed. He gives Shintarou a covert sign before he leaves, it would be foolish to trust Shougo to heed his words. Better to be careful.

He closes the door on a choked scream from Tetsuya, a sound that haunts him all the way back to his rooms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What feels like hours later, Atsushi comes to inform him that the deed has been done. Atsushi doesn’t meet his eyes and the complexion of his skin is uncharacteristically pale, but Seijuro doesn’t comment. He didn’t plan to check on Tetsuya afterwards, but somehow his feet have a will of their own.

Shintarou and Daiki wait in front of Tetsuya’s rooms. Seijuro sends them away, ignoring the looks they send him. Ryouta has gone to see Shougo out and make sure he doesn’t try something funny. He could have Shintarou take care of the rest, but something compels him to see for himself. The door to Tetsuya’s bedroom is halfway open, allowing a view inside.

The fog on his mind has lifted some, the anger is gone, what’s left is an odd flavour of mixed emotions Seijuro knows not what to make of.

Kagami kneels at the side of the bed, bent over what must be Tetsuya. The bed-

He isn’t wrong, he never is; his word is absolute without fail. Always...

Seijruro can’t see Tetsuya from his position, a fact he finds himself immensely relieved at. There’s blood on the sheets, the smell of it mixed in with the heavy smell of sex in the air. Small pools of blood have formed on the floor and Seijuro’s imagination is all too willing to provide images to go along with the scene.

“You must think I’m a fool.” Tetsuya says from the bed, voice weak and raspy, Seijuro can barely recognize it. For a moment Seijuro thinks it’s him Tetsuya addresses. Kagami makes a choked sound but doesn’t reply.

“Even I think I’m a fool.” Tetsuya’s voice sounds wet and it takes a moment for Seijuro to realize that he must be crying.

“You’re not a fool.” Kagami replies, voice thick with emotions.

“Sometimes…” Tetsuya starts and has to stop as a sob chokes him off. “Sometimes I wonder if all this is even worth it. I wish I would have gone when you asked me to, when we still could. It would have been so much easier to just leave and never look back. It’s so easy.” He lets out another sob and for a while it’s all he’s doing. Tetsuya calms down eventually, whatever emotions accumulated finally let out.

“Who cares what happens.” He says, voice sounding more to his usual self now. Impassive, indifferent. Dead. “Who cares how many children get sacrificed. I survived; it’s no longer my problem.” He chuckles, dark and dry and desperate.

The sound seems to physically lodge itself into Seijuro’s chest. He can barely breathe with the pain of it.

“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t.” Tetsuya’s voice is so quiet, Seijuro barely hears it.

“That’s not true.” Kagami says softly. “You’re doing the right thing. You’re making sure Shizuka has a future.”

“I know.” Tetsuya says after a stretch of silence. “If my resolve were really that weak I wouldn’t be here.” His voice changes slightly on the last words, as though he’s grinning while speaking. Seijuro imagines it’s not a happy grin.

“You’re the strongest among us.” Kagami says and his voice is uncharacteristically tender. Tetsuya doesn’t reply for a while.

“I think of her, when it gets hard. It’s what gets me through the bad stuff.”

Kagami makes a low noise of agreement.

“But I can’t help but be afraid. What if we fail? I can’t-“ Tetsuya swallows thickly. “I’m afraid I’m not strong enough. Kagami,” he says, suddenly fervently. “Please, if anything happens to me, take her away. Just don’t let her die.” Seijuro can see his hand when he grabs for Kagami’s sleeve, pale and shaking, barely able to hold a steady grip.

Kagami covers the hand with his. “I will,” is all he says, and Seijuro is struck by the odd thought that it’s not what he wanted to say, but the only thing he could. Another silence follows after, only interrupted by Tetsuya’s labored breathing.

“You should leave.” Tetsuya says eventually.

“I won’t leave you.” Kagami replies immediately.

“And then what? Have Akashi punish me again?” Tetsuya says with a tinge of bitterness. Kagami flinches.

“I will kill him.” He says finally.

“I know you will. I can’t have that. We still need him.”

Kagami sighs heavily. “You’re right though. It’s not worth it.”

“You said that from the start.”

“And you never cared.”

Tetsuya laughs softly, the sound only lasting a moment though, before it breaks off into a pained sigh. “I really am a fool. But I’m glad I have you.” Kagami sighs again and shakes his head.

“I won’t listen to you next time. It’s not worth your life.”

“You will listen.” Tetsuya says but it doesn’t sound like an order. More like he’s stating a very obvious fact. “You always do.”

Kagami sighs again. “I couldn’t save you once. Is this my punishment?”

“No. It’s mine.” Tetsuya’s voice sounds quieter as though he’s facing away from them. Kagami hangs his head for a moment, the silence stretching almost like a blanket on top of them.

“At least let me help you tonight.”

“No, you should go now. Before Akashi kills you for real.”

Kagami laughs, dark and a bit too loud. “You know I would never let him.” He stands up and looks down at the bed. Now that he’s no longer obscuring it, Seijuro can see the form of Tetsuya’s body on the bed. He’s covered with a blanket, but there are stains of fresh blood, among older dried ones.

There’s a pause in which both of them just silently look at each other, before Kagami finally speaks again. Seijuro doesn’t understand the words; they’re not in a language he knows. Tetsuya replies in the same language, sounding oddly soft now, or maybe that’s just the nature of the strange words.

There’s a rustle of wind against curtains and then Kagami is gone. It happens so fast, Seijuro doesn’t even see him move. Just one moment he’s there, standing next to the bed, the next moment the spot is empty and only the blowing curtains give away where he went.

In the silence that follows, Seijuro wonders what he should do. He wants to know, more than ever, what secrets Tetsuya hides behind that impenetrable mask of his, but he can’t bring himself to move. The desire to know is in conflict with the desire to comfort Tetsuya. Even though Seijuro knows there is nothing _he_ could do.

The decision is taken away from him in the end, as Tetsuya struggles to sit and then attempts to stand up. His legs don’t have the strength to carry him and he has to use the bedposts for stability. Seijuro can only watch as he works his way forward on unsteady legs, using the furniture as crutches whenever he can. The room isn’t well lit but Seijuro can still see the traces Shougo left behind. Just because he didn’t leave permanent damage, doesn’t mean the sight is any less jarring.

It’s not even the worst he’s ever seen, but now he finds he can barely stand the sight. Tetsuya drags himself forward and into the adjacent bathroom, where he apparently collapses on the floor, judging by the sounds.

“That damn bastard. He had to go for the-“ He groans and is then cut off by the sound of retching. Seijuro can hear him heave as he empties the contents of his stomach, hears the sickening sounds of splashing as it lands on the ground.

Seijuro suddenly can no longer bear to be there. It’s all too much and he turns and flees the room and the scene and all the responsibility that goes with it. It takes the walk back to his room for him to realize that, for the first time in his life, he has lost.

It takes another two hours, filled with pacing and brooding and staring at an empty wall, for him to realize what it is that he has lost.

And for the first time since his mother died, Seijuro cries.


	10. Precipice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Today's fun fact:** Hanamiya was supposed to be Tetsuya's brother and then stuff happened and I changed my mind. Hanamiya simply wasn't asshole enough.

Tetsuya feels cold to the bones. He can’t bear the sight of his bedroom, so he has taken all the spare blankets from his wardrobe and migrated into the living room. Despite the pile of fabric he’s currently buried under, he just can’t seem to get warm.

He had tried to wash off the blood and... other things, but he had been too exhausted to make much progress. He’d settled on washing out his mouth and the worst of the grime, before dragging himself back into his bedroom. The sight had almost turned his stomach again.

He’s shaking, not just from the cold but also from the memories. He thought he’d been prepared for anything. How could anything hurt him after what he’d been through?

His body hurts. The pain from his lower parts has spread all throughout the rest his body, not that he isn’t hurting everywhere else, from fingers and hands that couldn’t dig deep enough into his skin, from sharp nails and sharper teeth.

Tetsuya wants nothing more than to sleep - to forget, but he’s afraid of closing his eyes. Haizaki’s face hovers just outside his mind, a twisted mask of vengeful desire. The cold seems to have settled deeply in his bones. He’s shaking so badly now, the pile of blankets on top of him is in danger of toppling off. His teeth are clattering.

The world in front of his eyes is a blur with dark spots eating at the edges. Unconsciousness would be a blessing right now. Even if part of him insists on warning him against giving in, for there is no assurance that he will wake up again. Tetsuya eventually gives in to the darkness tugging at his mind. It washes away the image of Haizaki towering over him, washes away the bone-deep ache permeating his body.

If only it could take away the memories forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seijuro stares at the wall. He hadn’t done anything else for the past... he doesn't even know how long he had sat like that. His mind is an endless circle of meaningless words, regrets and painful memories. He hadn’t even realized how much he truly cared for Tetsuya until it was too late.

How ironic that is - he’s supposed to be always right, isn’t he? Only this time, he wasn’t.

It’s almost odd how clear his mistake lies out in front of him. He had failed to recognize the emotion at the time as jealousy, and therefore failed to realize that any action caused by said feeling would be erroneous - simply by matter of definition. He had failed to recognize a lot of things.

But nothing had been amiss, not obviously so - there had been no reason to reassess his judgments. He finally understands what people mean when bemoaning hindsight. In hindsight it really had been obvious, but it was only natural to incorporate Tetsuya’s assets into his system, the extra bit had not stood out enough to invite scrutiny.

 _Extra bit._ That is one way to put it.

Moreover, it had been exactly that - a natural process. Seijuro has made it a habit to reward good behavior; nothing of it had stood out in Tetsuya’s case.

What is says about him, Seijuro supposes, it can’t be a good thing, that he had so little of a clue about matters of the heart.

His thoughts are interrupted by a knock on his door. His visitor doesn’t wait for him to invite them in, before opening the door. The reason for this inconsiderate act becomes very evident once he sees the conflicted expression on Ryouta’s face. Something about it makes Seijuro’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest. He hasn’t just hurt Tetsuya, Tetsuya who means so much to him - he knows it now when it’s already too late - but also the men who’ve sworn their unwavering loyalty to him. The men he was supposed to trust more than anyone else.

Ryouta is visibly taken aback by his sight and Seijuro wonders just how messed up he looks.

“Akashicchi...” He says, unsure.

Seijuro has to close his eyes. His guards - his _friends_ \- should never have to be this cautious around him. Just what kind of monster did he allow himself to become?

He knows the answer to that, of course he does.

“What is it?” His voice sounds odd to his ears. Even though he tried to sound kind, Ryouta visibly flinches. He looks so tired, eyes lined with dark circles.

“It’s Kurokocchi, he...” Ryouta swallows and cold dread settles in Seijuro’s stomach.

“He collapsed in his rooms. He’s burning up and we can’t get him to wake up.”

Seijuro feels like the ground has been pulled out from under his feet. He sinks back into his chair, fighting to regain his composure. It’s a fight he’s about to lose. Ryouta looks at him worried.

“Midorimacchi is looking after him at the moment, but we have sent for Nijimura-sensei.”

Seijuro rubs a hand over his eyes. His thoughts are running in circles again, but he needs to pull it together and focus.

“Where... no, please bring me to where Tetsuya is right now. If you would Ryouta.” Ryouta’s surprise overrides his worry, but he pulls himself together quickly enough.

“Sure, Akashicchi.” Ryouta gives him another worried glance, before leading him out the door.

Seijuro expects - hopes, as if he had the right to - he’ll lead him to anywhere else but Tetsuya’s rooms. Of course, there is nowhere else Tetsuya could be. After all Seijuro has quite effectively clipped his wings. Somewhere Chengyi must surely be laughing right now.

Shintarou is bent over the sofa in Tetsuya’s living room. Tetsuya lies under a huge pile of blankets, only a mop of sweaty blue hair peeking out from where Akashi is standing. Daiki is standing in the middle of the room, like someone put him there and forgot to pick him up again. Like he has absolutely no idea what to do.

Shintarou turns half when he notices their entrance. “Akashi.” He sounds surprised. “There is no need for you to be here.” He sounds unusually clipped, even for Shintarou’s standards.

In another time Seijuro - the other him - would have reprimanded Shintarou for speaking out of line, but now he can only accept the silent reproach. He has let his other side run freely for far too long. This is merely the result of his negligence. Ah, or is it cowardice?

“How is Tetsuya?” It’s all he can do to keep his voice even. Tetsuya’s face is pulled into a slight grimace; hair is sticking to his temple in a sweaty mess. Color rides high in his cheeks and neck area, but it only outlines how pale he otherwise is.

“Well,” Shintarou scowls, the way only he can - thoughtful and very much reprimanding of any and all situations he deems unfavorable. “He has a high fever and is close to overheating. I was about to remove his covers.” He points to a small pile of blankets where he had begun unearthing Tetsuya from his protective cocoon. “I assume he was suffering from chills earlier, but with how high his temperature is right now, this is definitely too hot.”

Shintarou exchanges a glance with Ryouta, who wordlessly begins removing the blankets from the pile on top of Tetsuya.

“Nijimura-sensei will be here shortly. Until then we should have everything under control.”

Tetsuya’s bedroom door opens and one of Tetsuya’s maids walks in, carrying a bowl of water. Behind her follows another maid with an arm full of towels. Both of them bow when they see Seijuro, but his presence seems to throw them off, as they remain hesitantly near the door. Behind them Seijuro can see the mess that Tetsuya’s bed still is. The sight almost turns his stomach.

“Uhh, Midorimacchi? I think we need to get Kurokocchi’s temperature down soon. He’s burning up.” Ryouta yanks down blanket after blanket, until there is only one left.

Shintaoru curses under his breath. “Quick, get the water here.” He orders the maids and they swiftly obey. The one with the water, a tiny slip of a woman - Seijuro has never paid Tetsuya’s servants any mind, Satsuki is responsible for such things and he has always trusted her - puts down the bowl on one of the tables. The other one, a rather tall reed-like woman dumps the towels in the water and starts applying them to Tetsuya’s forehead.

Seijuro feels completely out of place and useless. Shintarou had told him as much, but Seijuro can’t bring himself to leave. This is his mess, but he has no idea how to clean it up.

Thankfully that’s the moment when Nijimura Shuzo, Seijuro’s personal physician arrives, followed closely by Tetsuya’s third maid. He takes one look at the situation and goes into action immediately, ignoring Seijuro’s presence completely. He gestures for the maid to put down his bag next to the sofa, before kneeling down next to Tetsuya’s head. He pulls away the wet towels and checks the temperature.

“Do we know of a cause?” He asks the room at large.

“Well... yeah.” Ryouta says haltingly. His eyes dart to Seijuro, hesitant.

“It’s my fault.” Seijuro says evenly. Shintarou almost drops the lucky item of a feather duster he’s been clutching in his hands like he wants to squeeze out all the luck it carries.

Shuzo levels him with a glance, before carefully lifting the blanket from Tetsuya’s body.

Seijuro’s eyes are drawn to the sight, against his better judgment. Tetsuya’s skin is almost deathly pale, except for the almost violently red flush on his face and chest. He’s covered with flakes of dried blood from the many cuts and bruises littering his body. Some parts of his skin have turned into a large canvas of purple and red. There are stains of fresh blood on the blanket and the sofa underneath. Fresh blood seems to be oozing from a wound somewhere between Tetsuya’s legs.

Shuzo freezes for the fraction of a second, before he drops the blanket with a sigh. “Shion, would you be so kind and fetch some poppy seeds from the kitchen. You’ll have to wake Kaede; tell her I sent you. And make sure to ask for medical poppy seeds. She knows what I need.” Shion, the maid who’d brought Shuzo, nods and leaves.

Shuzo grabs for his bag. “I need hot water, better yet, I need a fire.” He frowns and looks around the room. The room has a fireplace, but it’s commonly only in use during winter. Tetsuya’s room hasn’t been stocked with firewood yet.

“I could grab a coal pan from the common rooms.” Daiki offers. He seems to be on edge, hovering just outside Shuzo’s comfort zone, desperate to be of any help. Seijuro can relate all too easily.

“That won’t be enough. We need a real fire. Kuroko-san’s body is already weakened by the fever, like this the risk of infection is too high. Besides, I have yet to assess if any internal damage has been done.” His voice is serious, and although he doesn’t quite spell it out, the implications are there.

“My rooms.” Seijuro offers. Four pairs of eyes level on him with varying expressions spanning the entire spectrum between belief and disbelief. “My fireplace is stocked. Tetsuya shouldn’t stay here.” Somehow he manages to speak without having his voice shake.

“Are you sure?” Daiki frowns, and there it is again, that face that says he’s worried and confused by Seijuro’s sudden and inexplicable behavior. Seijuro merely nods.

“Moving him is not the best of ideas, but with the situation at hand our best option nonetheless.” Shuzo picks up his bag and stands up. “If one of you would be so kind.” He addresses Seijuro’s guards. “Try to be careful and not jostle him too much. He must be in great pain already.”

Both Daiki and Ryouta step forward to pick up Tetsuya, but settle on Daiki carrying him with Ryouta keeping the blanket in place. They meet up with Shion, who clutches a small satchel in her hands outside in the corridor. Seijuro leads the party into his rooms and then bedroom. If anyone is surprised by his choice, they don’t show it.

Shuzo takes quick control over the room, commandeering the maids to prepare the fire and water, while sending Shion on errand after errand. Shintarou excuses himself soon after, while Ryouta and Daiki nervously hover at Shuzo’s periphery, desperate to help yet unable to contribute much. Seijuro sinks in one of his chairs and waits.

He feels tired like he hasn’t in a long time. Yet he knows without a doubt he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if he tried. Seijuro knows he shouldn’t watch, respect what he’s left of Tetsuya’s dignity, but he can’t bring himself to look away as Shuzo works. There’s barely a stretch of skin that isn’t bruised or broken. Shougo had not been gentle. And Seijuro has only himself to blame for that.

Shintarou comes back a while later, carrying a tray with cups and a plate of snacks. He demonstratively puts down a cup of what appears to be steaming hot tea in front of Seijuro and then sits down himself.

“You haven’t looked into a mirror recently, have you?” Shintarou asks after taking a sip from his own cup.

“I realize I must look quite bad.“

“That’s not what I mean.” Shintarou adjusts his spectacles and sighs. “Your eye has changed. I would like to say back to normal, but I honestly don’t know anymore.”

Seijuro frowns. He was about to take a sip from his tea, but now he sets the cup down. He hadn’t felt any difference, but then again, neither had he when it first changed colors. “Is it…?”

“It’s red, yes.”

Seijuro listens inside himself. There had always been another presence within him, a voice that whispered sweet promises of victory and invincibility. It had been such a natural part of him that Seijuro eventually lost sight of the line that separated them - if there ever had been a line to begin with. After his father died the pressure on his shoulders had magnified. He remembers the bone-deep fear he felt when he had realized he might fail as his father’s successor. It had paralyzed him, but then it had just disappeared. His eye had turned golden and Seijuro had named it victory.

How foolish he had been.

The voice is quiet now. Seijuro doesn’t think it’s entirely gone, but he also doesn’t think that he’ll ever fall for its promises again. He only wished it hadn’t taken this much for him to realize it.

“I never thought it would feel like this.” Seijuro looks over to where Shuzo is still busy fixing his mess. It’s not supposed to be like this, is it? Tetsuya’s blood is on his hands alone.

“What is?”

“Failure.”

Shintarou’s eyes widen in surprise. He doesn’t say anything for a long unbearable moment, before he lets out dry huff of air. “So that’s how it is?”

Seijuro had never doubted that Shintarou would understand him. He supposes that says more about his subordiante than him. “Yes, so it seems.”

Seijuro only wishes he wouldn’t understand precisely why Shintarou’s answering smile is so sad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s sometime in the early hours of the morning. Shuzo has finished his treatment and Tetsuya has sunken in a drug-induced sleep. The room is quiet, safe for the soft sound of Tetsuya’s breathing. The maids have retired and so have his guards, albeit reluctantly. Shuzo has left him some of the tea he made for Tetsuya, in case he wakes up.

There is nothing else to occupy his mind. Shintarou and then Ryouta told him to get some sleep. Shuzo just took a look at him and could tell it was a lost cause. There is nothing else he can do, so Seijuro pulls a chair next to his bed and watches over Tetsuya’s sleep.

Tetsuya’s life is not in any kind of danger, Shuzo reassured him, but he might wake up, or his temperature might change and since Seijuro won’t sleep anyway, he might as well look after him.

Tetsuya moans in his sleep, brows furrowed in discomfort. Seijuro checks his temperature. He only has a light cover, but the fever drives his temperature too high for any more. Seijuro picks up the cup of water on the nightstand and carefully lifts Tetsuya’s head to let him drink. Water, Shuzo had said is the most important thing right now. If Tetsuya loses too much water his condition might worsen significantly.

It’s a small contribution and not one that lets Seijuro think he can make anything up by it. But he will do what is necessary to help Tetsuya get better.

It’s the least he can do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya dives in and out of consciousness. At least, he thinks that’s what he does. Sometimes he wakes to a suffocating feeling of heat, like he’s trapped in an oven. He tries to move but finds he can’t. Something heavy is blocking him, like lead filled into his limbs. He feels the cool trickle of water down his throat and the heat subsides. He sinks back into sleep.

He dreams of red hot pain and the cruel lines of hatred on the face of a grey-haired man. The man digs his long black claws into him and pulls out everything he has to offer, until all that’s left is the bloody beating of Tetsuya’s heart. The dream diffuses into the feeling of a cool palm against his forehead and fleeting words he can’t make out.

Tetsuya attempts to open his eyes, but all his bleary sight reveals to him is a blurred flash of red. He must be at home then. Kagami used to take care of him when he was sick. Tetsuya lets his eyes fall closed again, sinking back into the cushions of sleep. The last few months were nothing but a bad dream. He’s caught a fever and is now suffering from delusional dreams. It’s alright though; Kagami is there to take care of him.

He’s at a beach. It’s unlike any beach Tetsuya has ever seen. The beach close to his home had been a rocky shore, with jagged stones and treacherous waves. This one is stretched as long as the eye can see, covered in soft white sand, blindingly perfect, without a single blemish. The waves roll gently on shore, white foam spraying from the waves’ crowns. Tetsuya watches as his footsteps disappear under the relentless onslaught of waves.

He feels entirely at peace.

Tetsuya knows it’s a dream - the way people sometimes just know that the world they are in isn’t real.

“I’m sorry.” His mother says, and Tetsuya supposes it’s not entirely unexpected that she would show up here. He looks at her face, sculpted like fine art and he knows he won’t remember it when he wakes up. He tries memorizing it all the same.

“I’m sorry.” She says again. She wears a dress he’s seen her in only once. It’s back to white again, no stain betraying the fate she has met. She falls down to her knees and Tetsuya suddenly realizes he’s his three year old self. She wraps her arms around him in a hug. “You were never meant to see me die.” She whispers into his ear, her breath oddly cool against his skin. Her skin is cold too.

Tetsuya can’t speak.

“My foolish child.” Her grip on him tightens almost painfully. “You need to remember.”

Remember what? He wants to ask, but there is no voice in his throat. Just the endless whisper of waves rolling and the distant scream of seagulls.

“Remember.” His mother’s arms are twigs and branches that hold him, dig and scratch at his skin.

“I love you, little one.”

Waves crash on shore, submerging him and his mother in a world of silence. When they recede, his mother is gone, washed away like footprints in the sand.  

He wakes again, but this time he’s cold to the bones. He curls in on himself, trying to sustain as much warmth as possible. It’s no use though. His body is violently shaking with the effort to generate heat, but all it does is shake off the blanket pulled over him.

Something warm brushes over his forehead and Tetsuya moves towards it instinctively. Right. Kagami is with him. Kagami has always been an inexorable source of heat. He finds a hand and grasps it, pulling until he is enveloped in that heat with Kagami’s body draped over him.

“Don’t leave,” he whispers. “Please, don’t leave.”

“It’s alright,” Kagami says, “I won’t go anywhere.” The voice doesn’t sound like Kagami, but who else could it be?

Everything was just a dream...

His thoughts are swallowed in darkness again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Shintarou comes round to tell him he needs some rest - Atsushi’s been supplying him with food regularly enough, but even Seijuro needs sleep - Tetsuya’s condition has improved significantly.

The drug had put him in a deep sleep, but once the effect had worn off he had surfaced a few times. One time he had been so cold he’d pulled Seijuro in for warmth. Whatever Tetsuya saw in him that moment, Seijuro is sure it wasn’t him.

He can live with that.

“You need to rest.” Shintarou fiddles with the small lacquered box in his hands. He’d been with Tetsuya the rest of the night. Judging by the fading light outside, there is not much left of the day either.

A lot of people had come to inquire about Tetsuya’s condition. Seijuro had known how well received Tetsuya had been, but the attention still comes as a warm surprise.

“I’m not tired.” Seijuro’s voice sounds oddly hoarse, as though he hasn’t used it in forever.

Shintarou sighs and affixes his glasses along with a very annoyed stare. “The fact that you haven’t yet told me to ‘know my place’ is a clear indicator that something is amiss. Now, I do understand that you won’t tell me anytime soon, but right now that merely translates to you needing a regular human’s amount of sleep.”

He’s right. Of course he is. It doesn’t change however that Seijuro doesn’t feel tired at all.

How could he sleep when Tetsuya is like this?

He asks Shintarou as much. He remembers a time when he could ask his guards - back then they were nothing more than his close friends, raised at his side to foster the bond of trust between them - for advice. Back when him actually needing advice didn’t cause worry or confusion.

It takes Shintarou an inappropriate amount of time to recover.

“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” Seijuro asks solemnly.

Shintarou swallows. “It has.” He agrees eventually. “Akashi, will you please rest? I will ask Kise or Aomine to keep watch in your stead. I think Murasakibara is cooking something right now, apparently he doesn’t trust the kitchen to care well enough for Kuroko.” It’s everything that he didn’t tag a please at the end of it.

“Alright.” Seijuro hovers a hand over Tetsuya’s sweaty temple. Whoever Tetsuya thinks he is, it might bring comfort to him to be touched by that person. But Seijuro never had the right to lay a hand on him to begin with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seijuro can’t sleep. He didn’t expect to really, but even lying in bed with closed eyes supposedly brings the body some rest. Since Tetsuya is occupying his bed and Shintarou vehemently vetoed him sleeping on the sofa, he temporarily moved into Ryouta’s rooms as he is currently watching over Tetsuya. Seijuro had been against it first, no one should lose sleep over this but him, but one look at Ryouta’s face had convinced him otherwise. It had helped maybe that Daiki looked close to start a fight for the privilege to watch over Tetsuya’s bedside.

Shuzo had come and checked on Tetsuya one more time, and after declaring he was recovering quite well, Seijuro’s last excuse had evaporated.

He still can’t sleep.

Seijuro tries but he can’t find any rest whatsoever. He gives up eventually, climbing out of bed and throwing on some of Ryouta’s clothes. They are too big and not at all his style, but he isn’t about to go out for anyone to see.

Or so he thinks. Maybe it’s his stomach that leads him, or it’s the lingering of Shintarou’s words, but he finds his way into the kitchens of the West wing. The kitchen is empty safe for Atsushi who’s sitting at the table with a pile of snacks and a bottle of sake. Only the sake is untouched.

Seijuro sits down opposite Atsushi without a word. There are things Shintarou won’t ever comprehend with his highly theoretic mindset, the same way both Daiki and Ryouta are too passionate - albeit in different flavors - to offer valuable counsel. And maybe Seijuro is deluding himself, but that’s irrelevant right now. He picks up the unopened bottle.

“Shintarou told me you were going to cook me something.” Seijuro doesn’t bother with a cup. He drinks right from the bottle.

“I was going to, but then I decided it’s too much of a hassle.”

Seijuro nods. The sake burns down his throat, as though it’s the first time he’s drinking alcohol. Something else burns just as unfamiliarly in his eyes, but Seijuro drowns it with the slow burn of alcohol.

“This isn’t sake, is it?”It burns down his throat but it doesn’t burn away the pain in his chest.

“No.” Atsushi yawns without bothering to cover his mouth. Would he have touched it, had he known? He can’t say.

They sit for a while in silence. Seijuro drinks but the ache doesn’t lessen so he puts the bottle down and closes his eyes. “I called him a whore.”

“Uh huh.” Atsushi leans his face on his hand, seemingly bored but Seijuro knows better. There is little there now of Atsushi’s usual child like behavior. He rarely ever gets serious, but when he does, little can stand in his wake.

“I would like to say I had no idea what I was doing, but as a matter of fact I knew precisely what I was doing.”

“Aka-chin can be mean sometimes.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“But you are no longer that Aka-chin, are you?”

“I wonder.” The world is a blur. Atsushi is a blur. For a moment Seijuro thinks it’s the alcohol that takes effect, but then Atsushi reaches out a hand and picks off a tear from his cheek.

He licks it off from his finger. “Ne, Aka-chin. Your tears are too salty, you need to drink more.”

“I thought that’s what I’m doing.” Seijuro’s hand is shaking ever so slightly when he reaches out to take the bottle. “I guess it’s not enough.”

“Aka-chin should stick to sugar. It’s much better than alcohol.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Seijuro closes his eyes but the tears won’t stop falling. He shouldn’t be crying. But he doesn’t know what else to do. He of all people should have seen it, but he didn’t. Emotions like that had no place in his heart. They would only get in the way.

What a fool he had been.

“Ne Aka-chin. Why are you crying now?” _Why now, why at all?_

“I’ve lost, that’s why.”

Atsushi squints his eyes. “That’s a useless thing to do.”

Seijuro pauses. Part of him wants to be offended; defensive of his actions, but Atsushi isn’t finished.

“I raped Kuro-chin on your account, yet it would have been in my power to deny you.” Atsushi’s eyes are serious for once and he levels the whole intensity of his stare on Seijuro. “I have my own demons to face because of you. What do you think it did to Kise-chin? Mine-chin? Even Mido-chin. Your decisions affect others, but you never pause to consider that.”

Atsushi pulls the not-sake bottle from his hands. “It’s not you who deserves comfort.”

Seijuro stares after the bottle. He feels anger, but it’s oddly disconnected, like it’s someone else’s. The tears have dried, but now there is an itching throb in his left eye.

“You knew what you were getting into.” He says, accusingly because it seems the natural reaction, but Atsushi only rolls his eyes.

“We did. We will follow you from here on too. But it’s an unnecessary hassle when you’re this unsure. Don’t think you could order us around if we didn’t decide to follow you. We are willing to burden your sins, as long as you retain the strength to lead us.”

Seijuro leans back. His vision has cleared, but he still feels sticky and wet from his tears.

“I have to accept the consequences of my actions, is that what you want to tell me?” Seijuro’s mind feels exhausted, more than his body ever could, more than he ever thought was possible. For the first time that evening, Atsushi smiles.

“Kuro-chin is strong. That friend of his is too. You are not the only one who has to live with the aftermath of this. Even Zaki-chin.” A strange look passes through Atsushi’s eyes.

“What do you mean?” He’s been too distracted the whole day, but he still picks up on Atsushi’s indicative tone.

“I mean that Zaki-chin fell down the stairs and is now in the infirmary.”

Seijuro can’t help it, he gapes. He can’t even be mad that no one told him. “I suppose it wasn’t an accident.”

“The doctor thinks it was because Zaki-chin was drunk. I think it was because Kuro-chin’s friend pushed him down the stairs.” Atsushi’s voice is uncharacteristically grave. “I think he’s lucky that he’s still alive.” And that not just because Kagami got there first.

Seijuro thinks back to the night before, how impossibly fast Kagami had moved. The Seirin have always been a legend- a clan indisputably loyal to the Teikou, and immensely skilled. Tetsuya’s own skills leave little room for doubt, but then there is Kagami.

“I don’t think it was luck.” Seijuro says contemplatively.

Atsushi shifts his eyebrows into an expression of mild surprise. Stern lecture time seems to be over and Atsushi’s attention drifts back to his snacks. At that moment he’s grateful that his guards are they way they are. Their strengths compliment whatever he’s missing, even though he never noticed before.

“You’re right. It was rather bad luck for us.” Atsushi’s voice gives no hint if he’s made a joke or not. Seijuro agrees enough to know he wasn’t.

“It could have been one of us.” Seijuro muses.

“No. If Kuro-chin had wanted us dead, we were dead already.”

“He couldn’t have anything to do with it.” Seijuro frowns as he thinks back to the conversation he overheard. Tetsuya had clearly forbidden Kagami to kill him, but he hadn’t said anything about anyone else. Could he have ordered it before Seijuro arrived?

“For someone so smart you’re sometimes surprisingly dense.” Atsushi says with another yawn. He starts gathering his stockpile of leftover snacks. “Kagami is like us. He would do anything for Kuro-chin.”

Ah, Seijuro thinks, he really had been a fool, hadn’t he?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His feet don’t lead him back to Ryouta’s rooms. Atsushi’s words have given him reason enough to pull himself back together. Despite that - or maybe precisely because of that, he feels the need to confront his mistakes. He can’t ask Haizaki, who’s in critical condition according to Atsushi and he can’t and won’t ask Tetsuya. So all that remains is the evidence left behind.

But when he enters Tetsuya’s rooms he finds the area has already been cleaned up. The bed is still a mess, but the sheets have been removed and the blood scrubbed from the floor. The window had been opened to clear the air and apparently forgotten to be closed again. Or rather it can’t be closed, as the latch seems to be broken.

Seijuro walks over to the window to look outside. Summers can be brutal in the capital, but the thick palace walls usually prevent the rooms from heating up too much. Still, the fresh night breeze feels nice on Seijuro’s face. Without proper airing, the rooms tend to get stuffy.

Stars blink above him and the moon hangs a thin round sickle in the sky. It’s the exact same view than from his rooms next door, but he’s never felt like this watching it. It has a calming effect, peaceful almost and it eases the ache in his chest like the alcohol could have never done.

He’ll go to bed and sleep, so that he can face tomorrow with renewed strength. Tetsuya is strong, he will recover and then Seijuro can start the long process of recovering what was lost between them. Even if Tetsuya might never forgive him.

A shadow flies past the moon, an owl maybe or another nightly predator. Seijuro turns his back on the view. There’s still the thing Tetsuya came here for originally, whatever it is only Seijuro can give him. After what he’s seen, Seijuro doesn’t believe for one second that it wasn’t Tetsuya’s choice to come here, no matter what his ministers or the Teikou may think. And Seijuro will see through that Tetsuya gets it, whatever it may be.

“Now this is a surprise.” The voice comes directly from behind him, even though no one had been there just a few moments ago.

Seijuro whirls around; hand reaching for a weapon he already knows is not there. There is a man crouching down on the windowsill. Seijuro hadn’t sensed his approach at all and for a moment he thinks it’s Kagami who’s come back for him, but the man has jet black hair and dark soulless eyes.

The man smirks. “I was expecting someone else, but I think you will do just fine.”

“Who are you?” Seijuro’s instincts tell him to be on edge. This man is without a doubt dangerous.

“You’ll learn soon enough.” The man says flippantly and flicks his hand. Seijuro moves on instinct, tries to dodge an attack he can’t even see, but it’s futile. Something pricks him in the leg, and all Seijuro can do is watch the needle stick out from his leg before his senses fade and he collapses to the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Seijuro comes too, he instantly knows he’s no longer in his palace, or even close to it, if the trees surrounding them are anything to go by. It’s daytime, but Seijuro doesn’t know if it’s the very next day or if he missed more than one day. His head feels terrible, like someone scooped out his brain and refilled it with wool. There is an awful taste in his mouth and his tongue feels like it’s grown double in size.

Whatever he’s been hit with, it’ll take a while to recover. Seijuro tries to move but finds he can’t. It takes longer than it should to work out that his arms and legs are tied. He’s lying on the ground, sticks and stones digging in his back and shoulders, but his muscles are too uncoordinated to wiggle up into a sitting position.

There are faint voices, muffled talking but either it’s too far or his brain too muddled to make out details. He manages eventually to maneuver himself upright against the trunk of a tree. They are at the edge of a clearing. A couple of bags lean against a nearby rock, behind which three men are in the middle of a heated conversation. One of them points in his direction almost accusingly.

Seijuro’s sight is still blurry and he has to close his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, the scene has changed. The three men have broken up and one of them is now walking over to him. Seijuro thinks for a moment he must be dreaming. The man looks familiar, light blue hair, small built and eyes the color of a cloudless sky.

Seijuro’s mouth goes dry all of a sudden. This can’t be.

“You.” His voice comes out little more than a hoarse croak. He desperately wishes his eyes were fooling him. The man in front of him is none other than Kuroko Tetsuya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things need to get worse before they get better


	11. Red Dawn and Brighter Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 points to those of you, who figured out Akashi was abducted by Tetsuya's twin.
> 
>  **Today's fun fact:** I still don't know how Ogiwara ended up in the fic. One moment he was just there as Tetsuya's attendant.

Tetsuya wakes to the sound of voices. He takes a moment to orient himself, to remember where he is and why his body is throbbing with the dull edge of pain in odd places. The memory isn’t pleasant. His mind is still fuzzy around the edges and his attempt at sorting through his recent memories to see what was real and what was a fever dream fall horribly short.

He doesn’t get long to dwell on it though, when the voices that woke him filter into his consciousness. They seem to originate from the room next door, which is - to Tetsuya’s mild surprise - not his but Akashi’s living room. He would appreciate the location under different circumstances, but right now the ongoing conversation absorbs all his attention.

“…can’t find him anywhere.” The voice sounds worried and faintly familiar. The image of a member of the palace guards comes to Tetsuya’s mind - long dark hair and dark eyes, but the name eludes him.

“That’s not possible.” This one he knows, there is no mistaking Kise’s musical tenor, although it’s stained by obvious worry right now.

“Well, he isn’t in your room, nor is he in any of the other rooms. I even checked the Queen’s.”

“Who’s seen him last?” The deep voice definitely belongs to Aomine.

“Atsu-chan. But they separated hours ago. Sei-chan wanted to return to bed, but I don’t know if he’s ever made it.” Tetsuya suddenly remembers the name of the man, it’s Mibuchi Reo. He was the only one who ever dared to address Akashi as casually as he does.

“There is no point in worrying, is there?” This one is Aomine again. “It’s not like anyone could come and abduct Akashi from his own castle. He’s probably gone out for a walk or something.” Aomine sighs annoyed. “He’s supposed to be resting.”

“I hope so.” Kise says bleakly.

Tetsuya has a dark premonition. There is no reason for him to worry when Akashi’s closest subjects don’t see a reason to, but he can’t help but feel on edge. Something isn’t right but Tetsuya can’t pinpoint what it is.

Outside, Mibuchi excuses himself with the promise to alert the palace guards to keep their eyes open. He leaves behind a heavy silence that is only interrupted by a tired sigh and the scraping of a chair. The door to the bedroom, which had only leaned lightly against the doorframe opens and Tetsuya quickly closes his eyes to feign sleep. It’s an instinctual response he doesn’t want to think to hard about.

Soft footsteps draw closer and pause next to the bed. Tetsuya evens his breathing, ignoring the light pang of curiosity that urges him to open his eyes and see who it is. Something brushes over his hair, the soft touch of a hand that lingers on his temple for a moment before retracting again. The gesture, as sweet and innocent as it is, leaves a lingering ache in his chest. He’s struck by such an intense longing for his home and family that tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

Right now all he wants is to go home to his family and friends and just forget what happened.

The steps recede and the door is closed silently.

Tetsuya opens his eyes again. Akashi’s bedroom is built a perfect mirror to his own, even down to the furniture. He can spot few personal items, but that comes little as a surprise. Akashi is not someone who’d leave personal affects lying around. Still, the room has a sort of homey atmosphere that Tetsuya’s own bedroom is lacking.

He looks around some more and finds a covered plate and a can of water on the nightstand. The sight of it reminds him how hungry he is. Under the cover he finds dry crackers and fruits and a small corner of cheese. He eats all of it and then washes it down with water. It’s not much but Tetsuya has seldom felt this satisfied by a meal.

After, he sinks back into the covers, his body demanding some more rest. He feels sore all over and he really doesn’t want to think of how his body must look right now under the cover. He’s grateful for the pull of his exhaustion, grateful that he doesn’t need to fear his nightmares right now, as he’s too exhausted to do anything but fall into a deep dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His sleep isn’t as dreamless as Tetsuya would like it to be. He doesn’t suffer from nightmares, but he’s haunted by images of his mother urging him to remember, alternating with memories of conversations he has heard, some recent, some years old.

He remembers none of them when he wakes up, just his mother’s voice and the fleeting taste of vanilla on his tongue.

But the moment he wakes up he knows what it was that was bugging him earlier. Such a dumb and incongruous thing. He sits up and has to fight a wave of nausea. His body feels incredibly weak; his legs barely carry him when he finally manages to get out of bed. He’s wearing a night gown that’s at least two sizes too big for him. His body protests every step and he has to bite his teeth at the dull sting that originates from his backside. With the pain come the memories and Tetsuya violently bites down on the scream that rises in his chest.

He must have made some sort of sound, because the next moment someone’s at his side, warm hands gently help him up and Tetsuya hadn’t even realized he’d collapsed to the floor. He’s shaking so badly, his legs refuse to carry him and Kise has to support most of his weight.

“Kurokocchi, you need to rest.” Kise implores worried. He tries to drag Tetsuya back to the bed, but he digs his feet into the ground.

He has to wait until the world stops spinning before he can speak.

“Akashi, have you found him?”

Kise stops his attempts to bring him back to bed. “Eh? How do you know he’s missing?”

“Where is he?” He grasps on to Kise’s sleeve. It’s just a hunch, there’s no way, absolutely no way but his instincts have always been too accurate to ignore.

Kise’s face falls for a moment, but he slaps on a cheerful expression as though he actually believes it would fool Tetsuya. “Not yet. But I’m sure he’ll show up soon and then we’ll all have a good laugh at it. Akashicchi can be eccentric sometimes.”

Tetsuya doesn’t miss the edge of despair underlining Kise’s words. From what he’s inferring this isn’t normal behavior for Akashi. He loosens his grip. There really is only one way to find out for sure. He shakes off Kise, but stumbles as soon as he tries to walk on his own. Kise thankfully doesn’t attempt to sway his path any longer, but helps him forward instead.

“Kurokocchi, you really should lay back down. We can handle this, you don’t need to worry.” Tetsuya ignores him. He prays, like he never has before in his life, prays to gods he’s never had faith in, to anyone who would listen that his instincts are wrong. And he prays that the one person who might be able to give him answers, actually has them.

Tetsuya pulls open the curtains and is greeted by the light of early morning sunrise. How much time did they already lose?

He struggles with the window for a moment, before he remembers that this isn’t his room, therefore the latch isn’t broken and he needs to open the window the normal way. Still, his fingers can only fumble helplessly. Kise catches his hands in his and pulls him around to face him.

“Kurokocchi, what are you doing?” His voice is concerned and gentle and Tetsuya finds he doesn’t have the strength to ignore him any further.

“He wouldn’t just leave, would he?” He asks hoarsely.

Kise’s face draws in confusion before realization lights him up. His smile is strangely sad when he replies. “Is this about Akashicchi? You don’t need to worry about that.”

Tetsuya has never before felt the urge to cry this strong. Kise’s hands are gentle, but he couldn’t shake him of if he wanted. The window is still closed and even if it weren’t, there is no way Kagami would still be here after Tetsuya himself sent him away. None of this should affect him as much as it does.

“Come on,” Kise says gently. “I’ll get you back in bed and then I’m going to open the window for you and bring you anything else you want. How does that sound? Ne, Kurokocchi?”

It would be so easy to give in. So easy to believe that Akashi will show up sooner or later. Undoubtedly amused at his subordinates unreasonable worry. This shouldn’t be his problem, not when his body hurts worse than after any practice session he’s ever had in his life.

“No.” Tetsuya says and Kise stops his latest attempt at dragging him to bed. “I need to verify something. Please, it’ll only take a moment.” If Kagami is even here.

Kise takes one look at him and gives in. He seems tired. Tetsuya doubts he has gotten much sleep. Between Akashi missing and Kise watching over him, just how much time would be left for rest?

“Alright. What do you need?”

“Open the window.” Kise pulls open the latch and pushes the window open. The air outside is chill from the night, but in the East Tetsuya can see the beautiful red dawn of sunrise. The view alone is breathtaking. But right now Tetsuya is longing for a different kind of red.

“Kise? Are you… what are you doing?” The door behind them has opened and Aomine pokes his head in. Aomine’s forehead is creased into an expression of mild alarm, but it seems to have little to do with the scene in front of him.

“Kurokocchi wanted to catch some fresh air.” Kise says with fake cheer.

“Eh, whatever. Tetsu your friend wants to see you.” Tetsuya whirls around so fast he loses his balance and only Kise’s quick reflexes prevent a face plant.

“What?” Kise exclaims.

“Yeah,” Aomine shrugs. “I don’t know, but I think your friend is crazy. He climbed in through the window and demanded to see Tetsu.” Aomine rubs a hand over his forehead. “I almost stabbed him in reflex.”

“More like you tried to stab me and failed miserably.” Kagami pushes Aomine into the room from behind, a somewhat annoyed frown on his face. The look he gives Aomine and then Kise who still holds on to Tetsuya is very short from murderous, but his expression softens instantly when he sees Tetsuya.

Tetsuya takes a step forward, out of Kise’s arms, and this time he doesn’t fall, but Kagami’s there all the same, wrapping him up in those huge warm arms of his and Tetsuya finally feels like breathing again.

“You alright?” Kagami whispers against his ear. No, he wants to say, nothing is alright, but what comes out is merely a muffled yes.

Kagami glares at Kise anyway. Tetsuya can feel the suppressed anger in his frame, the tension that lines his shoulder, ready to spring at the slightest provocation. It must take a lot out of Kagami to remain as calm as he is now.

“Kagami-kun, why did you come here?” Tetsuya doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want to know, but there aren’t many reasons for Kagami to come back now of all times. Tetsuya doubts he likes any of them.

“That’s what I would like to know.” Aomine stands with crossed arms next to the door, outwardly civil, but Tetsuya has no doubt he’d block the exit if Kagami gives the slightest hint of being a threat. Kise looks uneasily from one man to another.

“You came to finish us off like Haizaki?” Aomine’s expression is openly hostile and Kagami’s arms shift as though he’s reaching for a weapon. Tetsuya stops him with a gentle touch to his arm.

“What are you talking about?” Kagami growls. He pulls Tetsuya behind him and glares back at Aomine with the same open hostility. “Quit making no sense.”

“Huh? You really wanna go there? Your face doesn’t make any sense. What’s up with those eyebrows anyways?” Aomine takes a step forward, puffing up his chest as though he’s an animal preparing for territorial fights. Leave it to these two to get into a spitting match at the most inopportune of times.

“Don’t test me.” Kagami snarls.

Before Tetsuya can do anything more than wish he had less hot headed friends, Kise steps in between the two. “Stop it Aominecchi. Kagamicchi.” He gives both a stern look and while he doesn’t have any sway over Kagami, the use of the weird nickname is enough to throw him off. Aomine just sighs and slumps back against the wall.

“Just because you did us all a favor doesn’t mean I have to like you.” He mutters under his breath.

Kagami just frowns in confusion. “What? Favor… what? And why did you just call me that?” He turns to Kise who tries a cheerful smile that falls horribly short.

“Kagami-kun. Why did you come here?” Tetsuya asks, because someone has to stay on track.

Kagami pales instantly. “Shit.” He takes the few steps to Akashi’s bed and sits down, ignoring Kise’s half-hearted attempt at scandalized protest. “Your brother’s here.”

Tetsuya sways on his feet and has to sit down on the bed next to Kagami. Blood is rushing in his ears and he feels the slow cold seep of terror rise in his bones. So he’d been right with his stupid hunch. Because Kagami had reported increased activity on his brother’s side and he knew Toru could never let a grudge go.

“I stuck around after… well, anyway I ran into their camp a few hours ago. At first I thought they were going to attack or something, but then I realized they were on their way back. I followed them for a bit to find out what they’d been after, but I couldn’t get close enough.” He grimaces. Naomi’s trust in the Seirin had been rather strained already, but Toru had never hidden his dislike for the clan. As soon as he had inherited his position he had removed the Seirin from any and all responsible positions and demoted them to mere servants. It wasn’t so much that Kagami was still bitter about that, but mostly that Toru had surrounded himself with men from another clan loyal to the Teikou, men who had similar skills but lacked any and all of the Seirin’s codex of honor. That he wasn’t able to get closer was a direct insult to his pride.

“Kagami-kun, was Akashi-kun with them?”

“What? Why would he be…” Kagami’s face pulls into a confused frown that dissolves minutely into an expression of abject horror. “Shit.”

“What?” Aomine snaps. He steps forward and reaches out to grab Kagami by the lapels of his shirt. “What do you mean _shit_? What the fuck has Tetsu’s brother to do with all this?”

Kagami ignores him. He looks frantically at Tetsuya. “They had a man with them. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but he had really weird hair, like they’d slapped mud on his head or something. I thought it was just the color of his hair. I knew he looked familiar.”

“What the fuck?” Aomine drops Kagami and stares wide eyed from him to Tetsuya. Kise is gaping like a fish thrown on land, struggling to catch on to what is happening. “Why would your brother be after Akashi?”

“He wouldn’t. He’s after me.” Tetsuya says hollowly. His mind is running a thousand miles a minute. His brother came for him undoubtedly, but Tetsuya was somewhere where no one would expect him. So Toru went after Akashi. But why? He obviously wasn’t going to ask for a prisoner exchange, otherwise they wouldn’t already be returning to Teikou.

Teikou.

The temple.

If it’s his blood he’s after, Akashi’s should do just as well. They share the same bloodline after all. And Toru has always been… adaptive.

Aomine is shouting, demanding answers, while Kise’s imploring quieter from the sidelines. Tetsuya ignores them both.

“Wait, where are you going?” Aomine reaches for him, but Kagami stops him by slapping his outstretched arm away.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch him.” He growls.

“Let go of me.” Aomine snarls right back. “I want answers god damn it. And Tetsu is giving them now.”

Kise intercepts him at the door and only his worried and open expression stops Tetsuya’s hand from cutting off his air supply. He’s not thinking straight, really. He can’t do this alone.

“Kurokocchi, what is going on?”

“We need to go, now.” He says and brushes past a dumbfounded Kise.

Kagami behind him curses and then advancing footsteps tell him he’s hot on his trail. Consequentially, Kise and Aomine follow closely behind.

“Kuroko wait.” Kagami reaches him first. Tetsuya is still unsure on his feet, so Kagami has no problems stopping him and turning him around to face him. All that keeps him going right now is the dreadful knowledge of what is to come. He wants to throw himself into Kagami’s arms then, forget what happened, but he can’t.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to get going now or Akashi-kun might be in danger. Toru-kun came for me. There is only one reason why he would do that but leave with Akashi-kun instead.”

“You don’t mean…” Kagami’s face is one of pure horror. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m not so sure of that.”

“But the rules…”

“When has Toru-kun ever heeded the rules?” Tetsuya asks bitterly. He has to fight off the images creeping in his mind. Has to cling to the thought he might be wrong. But deep down he knows he isn’t. No one knows Toru as well as he does, for they share more than just their blood. They were born the same day from the same womb. Shirai Toru is as close to him as anyone could ever be - he is his twin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not sure if I understood you correctly.” Midorima says with more than mild disbelief.

“You will soon enough.” Tetsuya replies flatly. He’s changed clothes from his flimsy gown to comfortable pants and a trainee’s variation of the guard’s uniform, as nothing else would have fit him. His body is protesting most of his moves, but Tetsuya ignores it with iron willpower.

Kise, Aomine and Kagami have followed him like faithful dogs to his rooms where he found his wardrobe in a frightening state of chaos - which origins he rather not think about now - to the room where his maids sleep and then after Shion who, unruffled as ever, led him to the palace’s uniform store. While he had changed he had explained in quick words why it was imperative for them to follow behind his brother and Akashi as soon as possible.

Aomine had been convinced immediately, while Kise was doubtful of the man’s identity. “It could be anyone, who says it’s even Akashicchi?” But Tetsuya had merely asked him where he thought Akashi was right now. Kise didn’t have an answer for that.

After that had been settled, Kise had dragged him to see Nijimura, the doctor who had taken care of him while he was sick. Aomine had gone to rally everyone else and Kagami had reluctantly left after a long and exhausting debate. He would go ahead and alert the Seirin to the situations, buying them the time they needed to prepare, in addition to keeping an eye out on his brother’s movements. It wouldn’t do if this was an elaborate ploy to lure them away only for him to attack the palace.

Tetsuya is sitting in Nijimura’s rooms, while the physician checks his vitals. Aomine leans against the wall next to the door, tapping his fingers impatiently, similar to Kise who’s close to vibrating out of his chair with anxiety. Midorima stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed and fighting for some semblance of logic, while Murasakibara watches on quietly. Imayoshi, Mibuchi and Mayuzumi complete the picture.

“You are saying Akashi has been abducted by your _brother_ because you happened to not be there?”

“Yes.” Tetsuya simply says. He’s impatient for Nijimura to finish up. Regardless of his condition, they need to be on their way soon.

_“It could be a trap.” Kagami says with a concerned frown._

_“It most likely is.” Tetsuya says with a sigh. “But Toru won’t lose one opportunity for another. If I don’t come, he will sacrifice Akashi. If I come, he will want to sacrifice us both. Either way, I can’t just do nothing.”_

_“All the more reason to stay with you. I don’t trust_ them _with you.”_

_Despite the situation, Tetsuya allows himself a smile. “I can look after myself. But someone has to look out for Shizuka.” He knows he has won, the moment he mentioned his niece. He’s not the only one with that weak spot._

_“Alright, but be careful.”_

_“I will.”_

“I find that hard to believe.” Midorima sighs. He seems tired. Tetsuya wants to smack him for being unnecessarily obtuse, but he understands just as well the pressure that’s been put on Midorima right now. As Akashi’s right hand man - all but in name - it falls on his shoulders to burden Akashi’s absence. That doesn’t mean Tetsuya has the time to deal with it.

“Does it matter?”Aomine pushes away from the wall. “All I need to know is if Akashi is with Tetsu’s brother. We need to go after them”

Midorima pinches the bridge of his nose. “This could have wide-reaching diplomatic consequences; we can’t just rush into this.”

“As far as I am concerned abducting his Imperial Majesty is an act of war.” Imayoshi offers with a sardonic smile. “If anything we should send an army.”

“That would take too long.” Tetsuya says. “Or do you have an army standing at the ready right now?” He levels Imayoshi with a stare.

Imayoshi shrugs. “I’ve got about 200 men I could rally until tonight. Reckon that should do the trick?”

“Do that.” Tetsuya nods. “They can be our backup. In the meantime I will proceed with a small group and intercept my brother if possible.”

“And who has put you in charge?” Mayuzumi speaks up for the first time. He doesn’t look particular interested in the situation, but his voice clearly shows his annoyance.

“Experience.” Tetsuya simply says.

“Well, I would say Kuroko-san is our best shot.” Mibuchi says with a wry smile. “Or has anyone of you been to the Teikou lands?”

Mayuzumi rolls his eyes with little attempt at covertness, but doesn’t speak up again. Midorima just sighs but seems to accept the current situation.

“Well, I’m going to rally my men then. I’ll send Sakurai when I got the details.” Imayoshi hops off the desk he had been perched on and walks out with a two fingered salute.

“We still need a plan.” Mibuchi reminds them once he’s gone.

“We’ll make one up on the way.” Tetsuya decides. If nothing else he can count on Riko to have come up with something as soon as she catches wind of the situation.

“What about Rakuzan? Who’s going to take care while you are gone? Who are you even taking with you?” Mayuzumi inquires impatiently.

There is a moment of silence and Tetsuya realizes that he’s unwittingly put himself in charge of the whole expedition.

He takes a moment to consider the situation.

“Midorima-kun, what are the minimum requirements for the government to run smoothly, and who needs to remain here to provide basic operations? Present people excluded.”

Midorima frowns. “We could do if we leave precise instructions. Fujiwara should be able to overlook most of the proceedings satisfactorily. Shirogane, Harasawa and Oshiro can be trusted with some responsibility. Although I would suggest for Mayuzumi to remain here as well, as he has the most insight into Akashi’s plans, aside from me. Momoi of course should have everything under control in her area.”

Tetsuya nods. “Aomine-kun, Kise-kun, Midorima-kun and Murasakibara-kun will accompany me. Prepare what you must; we’ll depart in an hour. Midorima-kun I would ask you to oversee the necessary preparations for a smooth operation of all government instances. You may take Mayuzumi-kun along.” He turns to Mibuchi. “I would ask you to have an eye out for us. My brother is returning home but he might have additional plans that require him to send someone back. Do not take my brother’s men lightly. They do not tend to fight fair.” There is a moment of hesitation, but ultimately his orders are followed with little to no complaint.

Nijimura breaks the silence with a sigh. “As a doctor I can’t let you go in your condition, but I suppose there is little chance you’d listen.”

“You would be right on that.”

“At least let me say this.” Nijimura leans forward until he has Tetsuya’s full attention. “Your body is in grave condition. Riding a horse will be torture. You have little hope to put up any sort of fight. The way you are now, you might end up being more a liability than an asset.”

“Then give me something to last longer.” Tetsuya says evenly.

Nijimura unceremoniously flicks him on the forehead. It’s light, but Tetsuya still feels the need to rub the spot. “It doesn’t work like that.” He chastises.

“I have little choice.” Tetsuya says and moves to get up from his position.

Nijimura stops him with an annoyed sigh. He takes Tetsuya’s hand and pulls him back down. Tetsuya suppresses the wince at the sudden impact on his bruised body. Nijimura gives him a pointed glance. “Patients should listen to their doctors. You have an hour, don’t you? I might not have a magic cure at hand, but there are certain preparations you can make. And don’t even think of ignoring what I say. I will check up on you once you return and if I find out that you’ve worsened your condition unnecessarily, there will be hell to pay.” Nijimura’s grip around his wrist is gentle but firm.

There is little Tetsuya can say to the expression of earnest worry on his face.

Still, Tetsuya hates to give promises he can’t keep. It’s just a moment he looks away but Nijimura sighs all the same. He lets go of Tetsuya’s wrist and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m a doctor,” he says with a strange sort of softness. “I have seen more soldiers go to war only to never return than I could ever care to count. And those that come back are often better off dead than alive. But regardless, we are glad for everyone that does come back, because once you’re dead, it’s over.”

Nijimura sighs again and leans back. Tetsuya had assumed Nijimura to be only a few years older, but now there is a tired streak around his eyes - it makes him seem decades older. The last real war the Empire fought was about fifteen years ago, when they were dragged into a confrontation between Cathay and an attempt of colonization by Western forces. The fact it hadn’t been fought on home ground had removed it almost entirely from the people’s general memory, but scars still remained.

“I don’t plan on dying.”

Nijimura rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t implying you were.” The lines around his eyes smooth out and he looks much younger again. Tetsuya isn’t fooled. “But there are other bad things you can bring back from a battlefield.”

Tetsuya thinks of the warm feeling of blood spilling over his hands. The frantic few last beats of a heart before it gives out under the pressure. The moment life flees from someone’s eyes and the dark consuming joy that comes with it. Tetsuya knows Nijimura is not talking about that. He nods all the same.

“Good. Now listen…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite his displayed confidence - or maybe it’s more accurate to call it indifference - Tetsuya wishes very much he could just lie down and sleep until his body no longer feels like it’s weighed down by a mountain. But he has no other choice.

Ogiwara accompanies him to the stables where he’s supposed to meet with the others. Since Tetsuya was held up listening to the extensive list of things Nijimura rather not have him do and things he should do if things got worse, Ogiwara packed his bag. Tetsuya is still wearing the trainee uniform and since it is comfortable enough, he decides on keeping it. Shion has packed him another outfit he plans on switching into when they’re close. Ogiwara also hands him a small package from Ayame and Sumire, supposedly a gift to make him feel better. His handmaids’ worry is touching and makes a firm weight settle in his stomach.

Before they can make their way out of the palace however, they run into one very enraged Momoi. Her eyes are puffy and she has her hands resting on her hips the way she always does when someone screwed up and is about to be handed their due. For a moment Tetsuya thinks she’s going to hit him but then her pose relaxes and she throws herself against his chest. He staggers under her weight, his body still lacking the strength to support more than his own weight. Ogiwara’s hand on his back keeps them both from falling over.

“You come back, hear me?” Momoi sounds wet but she refuses to pull her face away from his chest. “You find Akashi and you both come back. Promise.”

Tetsuya doesn’t know what to say. So he doesn’t say anything at all and awkwardly pats her back. He meets Ogiwara’s gaze - oddly serious for once - and thinks of what Nijimura had said to him not so long ago. So that was what he meant. It’s not his first dangerous outing, but in Seirin everyone knew about the risks. They had made it part of their daily lives. People were expected to come back alive and well, and if they didn’t they were quietly mourn, but ultimately life would continue as normal. It was a consequence of their lives, of the path that had been laid out for them.

What a strange sentiment.

Momoi eventually separates from him, eyes wet but she tries a smile all the same. “I’ll be mad if you don’t. And I’ll tell Nakajima-san that you broke your word. She’s super scary when she’s mad.”

Tetsuya can only nod. Momoi pats him on the shoulder one more time before she lets them pass.

Ogiwara pointedly clears his throat shortly after. Tetsuya doesn’t stop but inclines his head to show he’s listening. “I, uh…” Ogiwara is usually not the kind of person to struggle for words, but right now he can’t seem to find what he wants to say.

But now at least Tetsuya does. “I’ll come back.” He says, and maybe for the first time he actually believes it.

Ogiwara smiles, teary eyed but still. “Don’t forget his Majesty.” He says.

Tetsuya’s answering smile is rueful. Akashi’s return was never in doubt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya is the last to arrive at their meeting point. Everyone else is already there, packed and ready. A couple of horses stand a way back, under the watchful eye of two stable hands. At their sight, a feeling of trepidation settles in Tetsuya’s stomach.

“You got everything?” Aomine asks him. He’s surrounded by an undeniable air of excitement, like this is all just one big adventure.

“Almost.” Tetsuya replies. Ogiwara hands him his bag, which is as lightly packed as possible. They will have to leave the horses behind once they reach the lands of his home. Tetsuya’s stamina had always been lacking, but right now he has difficulties standing on his own two feet.

“What’s missing?” Kise leans over Aomine’s shoulder. He’s radiating a similar excitement than Aomine, but more subdued as his eyes are lined with rather heavy bags. There’s a line of worry creased in his forehead, giving him almost a decade worth of years.

“A weapon.” His needle had disappeared mysteriously not so long ago and he had neglected to replace it. He thinks it quite ironic that he plans on bringing a weapon at all. This is not a confrontation he plans on leaving with his brother still alive. But he can’t forget the promise he made Kagami.

“You can’t seriously think of fighting?” Midorima has broken away from his conversation with a slightly panicked Sakurai. He’s scowling heavily, worry lines creasing and Tetsuya suddenly realizes that Midorima looks just as tired as Kise, if not more. Even Murasakibara shows traces of exhaustion.

He thinks of pointing out that none of them stands a likely chance against his brother, but the words die on his tongue. His brother’s skills have never lain in fighting; no weapon can help against his poison. “I would like to be able to defend myself at least.” None of them has ever seen him fight bare handed.

Midorima pulls his brows into an even deeper scowl, but he can’t quite argue with the point. “Alright, fetch what you need.” He points his head towards the small building on the other side of the trampled path that connects the outside buildings. Tetsuya tries his hardest to hurry, but his body just can’t keep up with the needed urgency. It’s all he can do not to limp at every step, rushing is out of the question.

He doesn’t dwell on his choice for too long. He picks a dagger that feels alright in his hand and makes his way back to the others. Murasakibara has mounted his horse - a beast of an animal that still manages to seem rather small under his bulky form. Midorima is talking to Takao in hushed voices and although Midorima is still scowling, Tetsuya has the distinct sensation he is intruding on something private. He looks away in time to see Kise approach with two horses in tow.

Tetsuya recognizes the horse he’s used on his rides with Kise. It’s a well-tempered mare that has developed the habit of chewing on his hair when he’s in reach. As soon as she sees him she trots over and nudges her snout in his hair.

He gently pushes her head away and takes the reins from Kise. Everyone else has already mounted, but Tetsuya can only stare at the saddle with cold hard dread. He can’t do it. He stalls by putting his stuff into the saddle bags, but it only postpones the inevitable. He’s been able to mostly ignore the constant ache in his body, but he also avoided strenuous activity. Getting on a horse definitely counts as such. Not to mention that any form of sitting right now is rather painful, even if he doesn’t have a horse between his legs.

“Tetsu?” Aomine brings his horse to his side. Tetsuya has to swallow past the lump in his throat. “What is it?”

He clenches his fists around the reins, trying to force his lungs into a rhythm of steady breathing. He can’t deal with the memories right now. But everything rises up unbidden, the grasp of sweaty palms on his body, digging and burrowing under his skin until he’s an open wound. The sharp burn of _something_ entering him where it has no place and the soul-deep despair that came with knowing he has no choice but to endure it. He can’t jeopardize the fragile peace he holds in his hands.

“Tetsu.” Aomine slides from the back of his horse. Tetsuya uses the frantic melody of his voice to pull himself back together. He can’t fall apart now. Not when all that’s in his ways is his inability to ride a horse.

“It appears I need some help with mounting my horse.” Tetsuya keeps every bit of emotion from his voice, except the gentle note of politeness.

Aomine looks down at him with a frown. Kise appears behind him on his horse, face in an equally worried expression. Aomine looks from Tetsuya to the horse and then back to him. Tetsuya is rather sure his body language is as tight lipped as ever, but something must have shown regardless.

“No way.” Aomine shakes his head. “You’re not riding on your own.”

Tetsuya attempts to protest but Aomine waves it away before he can even start. “This is a stupid idea.” He mutters under his breath. “Oi you there, Tetsu’s attendant? Yes, sorry I don’t know your name, but could you bring us a pillow?”

Ogiwara dashes off like someone set his hair on fire. Tetsuya suddenly feels embarrassed for the sole reason that this big of a deal is made because of him. He should have gotten used to it by now, but he still can’t come to terms with the fact how important he is to these people.

Aomine takes the reins from his hands and passes them to Kise. “You’re going to ride with me. You can ride your own horse when you no longer keel over from the bare idea.”

“No fair,” Kise complains. “I want to ride with Kurokocchi.”

Any further complaint Tetsuya could have issued is effectively nipped in the bud by Murasakibara leading his horse right next to them and announcing in a more than bored voice that “Kuro-chin should ride with me. I have the most space.”

“You can take turns.” Tetsuya agrees tiredly. Despite his reluctance and maybe pride, he can’t help but feel relieved at the prospect to hand the reins to someone else. He might even get some sleep in like that.

Even so, it is a rather embarrassing affair when one of the stable hands has to lift him up into Aomine’s saddle, where he’s carefully placed on the pillow Ogiwara had brought. Aomine is warm against his back and he gently wraps his arms around Tetsuya when he grasps the reins. It takes four days to reach Teikou by horse. Time enough, Tetsuya hopes, to recover the strength he needs to face his brother.

And with that they are off.


	12. Things Long Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Today's fun fact:** I borrowed Shiina's name from the manga Narutaru. Because Naomi is just as much of a bitch as the original Shiina's mother.

The question comes up when they break camp for the first night. Kagami has left a trail of hints throughout their route, detailing what he’s observed and so Tetsuya is confident that they won’t lose too much time by resting at night.

Despite his offers to help, Tetsuya is mostly ignored while the others set up camp, but as soon as everyone has settled and their dinner - a few unlucky rabbits - is roasting over the fire, the attention turns back to him.

It’s a beautiful night without a single cloud obscuring the twinkle of stars above them. The night air is still warm from the day’s summer sun and the only sound that disturbs the quiet is the crackling of the fire and the songs of the cicada.

“What’s up with your brother anyway?” it’s Aomine who breaches the subject.

Tetsuya pauses. He puts down the skewer of rabbit he was about to take a bite from and takes a moment to look at the four men who all show varying signs of interest. Aomine and Kise stare at him with open interest, Midorima makes a determined effort not to look at him, but the way he holds his head suggests he is just as interested, while Murasakibara lazily chews on his meat and looks mildly less bored than usual.

“I suppose this is something I can no longer put off.” Tetsuya fiddles with the skewer between his hands. He is no longer hungry. He wonders if he should have told them sooner, if it would have made a difference. But such thoughts are futile now.

What’s done is done.

“I must warn you though. It is a long story and not… pleasant.” He can’t look at anyone right now, so he looks into the dancing flames. The fire is warm on his face and the constant throb of his body has ceased for now that he’s no longer bouncing on the back of a horse.

“I don’t expect it to be pleasant.” Someone says over the crackling of the fire, but the voice is lost in the rising of Tetsuya’s memories.

Much of his family’s history has been wrapped in secrets, away from stranger eyes, but Tetsuya always had the ability to go unnoticed if he wanted to. He has seen the written tradition of his family’s history, the lore and the secrets.

The story, as much as it should be, is not a short one.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The beginning of the Teikou, as is common with many things, was a simple and unremarkable thing. A man rose to power through deeds of valor and soon he was chosen to lead his village. His descendants steadily widened their influence, until their power and influence warranted a name.

There was no King in those days, no Emperor to dictate the rules, only men with swords in their hands and corpses at their feet. One man mantled himself with the name of Shirai and named his domain Teikou.

That same man also put in motion the ill fated history of the Teikou, one which still haunts them today.

The lands of the Teikou were vast, but they were situated in the great mountain range of the West, with mines of silver and iron but little fertile ground to sustain life. Trade was scarce as the neighbors were hostile and scattered. Circumstances were harsh, but the Teikou prevailed.

They have seen the birth of the Empire under Rakuzan hand, they have watched as the young nation struggled to find its footing, they have watched wars and conquest, victory and defeat. They have seen the rise and challenge of new opponents, all to fall and bow to the Empire’s power. But through all the years and history, Teikou never once faced defeat.

The Teikou have prevailed through all their challenges. But power, as much as prosperity, always comes with a price. Rumors have spread aplenty, but no one outside the family has ever grasped more than a fraction of the truth.

And Tetsuya learned the whole scale of the truth when he was barely five.

Kuroko Shiina was the firstborn child of Shirai Naomi, and like all firstborn children of the Teikou line, she was bestowed with a bastard’s name. Because her life was not her own, her life was merely the price the Teikou intended to pay for their power.

The man who’d laid the foundation of their fortune had looked around his home one day and realized that their future was a fragile thing. The land was barren and yielded little crops, silver and iron made for good profit, but there were few to sell to, as they had wrenched the lands from their neighbors’ hands and left little more than fear and distrust in those who remained. There was no future for the Teikou as it was.

So the man had turned to the Gods of old - cruel deities residing in rocks that tumble down in a landslide, in the treacherous currents of a rocky shore, in the wind that beats the land into a barren plane and in the rotten stench of ancient swamps that plagued the lands. The lands of the West had always belonged to the Gods and the Gods were jealous of their domain.

This man now had two sons. The firstborn was lazy and useless, living off his father’s purse with no ambition of his own. The second son was smart and cunning, skilled with mind and weapon alike; he outshone his brother in every aspect. But where the firstborn son had a kind heart and a gentle soul, the second son hid a darkness within his heart, a nature as cruel as the capricious will of the Gods.

The man prayed to the Gods and the Gods listened. They offered wealth and power, fruitful lands and compliant neighbors, blessed luck and endless fortune.

In exchange they asked for a very simple thing - a life. But not any life could do. It had to be of noble blood, from the man’s own vein or all the gifts would turn to ash.

The man wasn’t cruel or evil, but he knew he had no other choice but to sacrifice one for the sake of all the others. So he looked at his sons, one gentle but weak and one strong and with the charms to hide the dark stains on his soul.

The choice was obvious.

He sent his youngest son away on a hunting trip and invited his oldest son to celebrate. He fed him the finest wine and meat and he laced his drink with poison so he would be weak and pliable. He cut his son’s throat on the steps of his house; let the blood spill down the stones until it soaked into the ground.

The Gods listened. But the Gods are treacherous and no gift is ever given with a fair price. They blessed the lands with fertility, they coaxed the waves into a gentle rhythm that washed ashore the wealth of the sea and they tamed the wind that tormented the plains. But the gift would only last for one generation - the lifetime the son would have lived if his blood hadn’t been spilled.

And so it was decided that each generation anew would sacrifice their oldest child to buy prosperity for each new generation. Rules were set in stone in those days; children were to be sacrificed at an early age to guarantee the family’s continued affluence. But only if a second child was born the first could be sacrificed. The child must be a direct descendant of the Teikou line to tie the fate of the land to its ruler.

Ever since then the Teikou have thrived, against all odds - on the backs of their firstborn children.

_“Superstitions.” Midorima mutters under his breath. It doesn’t seem as if he intended to say anything at all, but the words escape all the same._

_Tetsuya meets his eyes over the flickering dance of fire. They hold gazes for a long moment, without a word and then a log bursts in the fireplace and Midorima looks away. In his hands he holds a bright orange feather - plumage stolen from one of the brightly colored birds of the lands in the South._

_What is fate other than an especially capricious God? What are Gods other than a particularly cruel twist of fate?_

_“It’s a legend, isn’t it?” Kise asks with uncertainty in his voice. “Like how they did all that dark stuff before the rise of the Empire? I mean, there’s no way they’re still doing that…”_

_Tetsuya puts a hand to his neck and silence falls once more among the fireplace. They’ve all been close enough to see the scar._

_He picks up the thread where he left off the story when Midorima interrupted him._

Shirai Naomi had married young as was their custom and soon after she had given birth to a daughter. The birth had been problematic and after, the doctors told her she would never again carry a child.

And such the wheels of fate were set into motion. Shiina could not die at five, for she was the last and only one in the line of succession, but her fate was all the same sealed.

As soon as she came of age she was married to one of Naomi’s trusted men - a retainer of the Teikou who had distinguished himself in service. He was loyal to Naomi and was as such rewarded with the hand of her only daughter.

But Shiina was not one to accept her fate. She had grown up under the looming shadow of her death and she was not about to silently go under. At that time the Emperor - Akashi Seijuro’s father - had sent one of his cousins to the Teikou land in an attempt to mend the fragile state of their relationship. Despite the various marriages tying the two houses together, the Teikou were loyal to none but themselves. In truth though, the Emperor’s cousin was to serve a reminder of the Empire’s shadow.

It would have mattered little to Naomi, if not her daughter had seduced the cousin into sleeping with her. And even though they shared only one night it was enough to leave her with child.

But the Imperial blood now living in her womb did little to protect her. Naomi coerced the Emperor’s cousin into silence - one he wouldn’t break until he laid on his deathbed many years later. And so Shiina had given birth to her children - twins - and even though they were the same down to the tips of their hair, one was destined to die while the other would live to rule.

Kuroko Tetsuya preceded his twin by a mere few minutes. But it was enough. He would die to guarantee a life of prosperity for his brother Shirai Toru.

They were young; yet plenty of ill fates can befall a newborn child. So Shiina was allowed to live a few more years, watching her children grow, yet knowing she would have to leave them so soon. She poured all the love she could muster into her sons. As little as she was allowed to spend time with her youngest, she had all the rest of it to spend with her oldest.

She taught him what little she knew of the world outside. But most of all she taught him a kind heart to counterbalance the darkness that resides in all of them, the innate thirst for blood that stained their history ever since the first father slew his first son.

And then, after both children had reached the age of three and a half it was decided that Shiina’s time had finally come. Tetsuya still doesn’t know why he had left his room that day. But he remembers exactly how his mother’s garden looked that night.

It was midsummer, the air was warm and filled with the smells of grass and fruits and life. Cicadas sang in the bushes and Tetsuya felt the irresistible wish to go outside and breathe the air that seemed to be charged with magic and wonders. And more than anything he wanted to visit his mother and share the stories of his day with her, something he had been barred from for the entirety of the day.

He sneaked from his room, an simple feat considering how easily he was overlooked even in broad daylight and entered his mother’s garden - how little did he know back then that it was also her prison.

His mother hadn’t been in her room, she wasn’t in her garden either. He had never seen her outside of her small world before, so Tetsuya wondered where she could have gone. He thought about visiting his brother instead, but Toru had become distant lately, something cold seemed to have settled in his eyes and he was always looking at Tetsuya with a weird knowing expression that scared him inexplicably.

It was then that he noticed the chimes of bells and the soft thrum of drums. He followed the lights he saw through the foliage of the trees, excited at the prospect of fairies that had come to visit.

It wasn’t fairies. It was his grandmother leading a procession of people through the grassy terrace that connected to the plateau with the stony building from which Tetsuya was bared entrance. He wasn’t allowed even near the building, but Tetsuya spotted his mother among the people and all precaution was forgotten.

He followed them inside, a silent shadow, overlooked so easily, especially in the shadows of a starless night. Only much later would Tetsuya remember other details of that night, the grim faces of the people in the procession, the binds that tied his mother’s hands or the vacant look in her eyes as she was led into the underground chamber. He followed them, through incense and smoke until his eyes were watering and his mind was fuzzy and pleasantly numb.

He doesn’t remember how he had left the chamber, but he remembers coming to in the middle of his mother’s lily garden, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of flower and the fleeting feeling of pain in his chest that had no name and no meaning.

He thought the memory a dream then, etched in red and the overwhelming smell of incense, but a dream nonetheless. His mother’s absence was explained with her sudden desire for travel and although it hurt his heart that she would leave him without a word, a part of him knew not to dwell and not to look too deeply.

The memory would come back one and a half years later. It was his and Toru’s fifth birthday, a day Tetsuya had been looking forward to for a long time, because surely his mother wasn’t going to miss two birthdays in a row? He and his brother had grown further and further apart, but five was a special number, everyone had said so. He would make up with his brother and reunite with his mother. Tetsuya was not worried.

That day he was woken by cold hard hands that dragged him out of his bed. To his five year old self it made little sense, but at that moment a part of him, the one that had always remembered, realized that his days of peace was over.

It was the first time in his life that Tetsuya tasted fear.

They dragged him off despite his struggles. Men and women he had known all his life, servants of the family that had played with him, retainers that had taught him the odd bit here and there, and yet they ignored all his cries and pleas.

He was stripped of his clothes and then dumped into a basin filled with cold water. The air was full of chanting and incense and it pulled memories to the surface that he had forgotten for so long. Memories of his mother laid out on a grey stone altar, eyes dull and empty as the people formed a circle around her. The faint twitch of her lips as though she wanted to speak or scream, her eyes breaking as Naomi sunk a knife into her neck and red blossomed all over her white gown. The steady _drip drip drip_ of blood pooling on the smooth stone floor.

Tetsuya watched himself being dressed in a similar gown, as white as freshly fallen snow, but his mind was oddly disconnected, like all of this was happening to someone else and not him. It felt like he was floating on a breeze that carried him higher and higher away from his body until nothing on earth could touch him.

He watched as they guided him along the same path his mother had taken. He could see the wind chimes hanging in the trees, now bare and leafless in the cold of winter. He could feel the thrum of drums in his blood, like an extension of his own heartbeat. It blew away the mist in his mind, leaving behind a clarity that was almost painfully sharp. He saw the big empty stone chamber with the massive grey altar in its midst.

They laid him down on the stone altar, the cold of it biting through his thin clothes. Just like his mother before him. Tetsuya knew with clarity then that he would die there, like his mother had died such a seemingly endless time ago. He wanted to ask why, wanted to ask why his mother had to die, why he had to die, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was watch.

The men and women around him were all people he knew and trusted, but now they seemed more like statues made from stone. Their faces were smooth masks without emotion. They might as well have been strangers.

“We thank you for your life.” The words were spoken in the ancient Teikou language. Beautiful and melodic in cadence, more like a song than actual speech, the sound still sent a shiver of dread down Tetsuya’s spine.

His grandmother stepped behind him and Tetsuya remembered the glint of metal in her hands and then the blood red flower that bloomed on his mother’s throat.

The memory shook something in him and finally he found his voice again.

“Don’t.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, too weak against the steady rhythm of drums and chanting.

His grandmother’s hand was painful on his scalp. She gripped a handful of his hair and pushed his head down until the side of his neck was exposed.

“Our Gods are nameless.” She intoned and the chanting fell silent. “Our Gods are faceless.” Something cold and sharp bit into the side of his neck. He could feel the first drop of blood slide down his neck, slick and warm and a nameless terror took hold of his heart. He tried to struggle, but there was no strength in his body.

“We are Darkness.” The blade sunk deeper, the pain of it sharp and cruel against the panicked flutter of his heart.

“We are Light.” The crowd replied, a dark murmur against cold and unyielding stone. Tetsuya’s vision bled into red. The fear was gone now, so was the pain. All that was left was the thrum of his heartbeat as it pumped his life away. Even the drums were silent now.

He was alone.

There were no Gods.

And Tetsuya’s world became dark.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Another log bursts, sending fiery sparks up in the air. Tetsuya realizes he’ been staring blankly at the fire for quite a while now. It’s silent except for the noise of the fire.

Someone exhales with a shaky sigh.

The fire is hot but none of it reaches Tetsuya. The memory of steel and stone is too cold in his heart. He should have died that day. So why didn’t he?

Somehow he thinks of the package his maids have given him. He pulls it out and opens it, mostly to give his hands something to do. Inside are small brown cookies smelling faintly of vanilla. He packs them away without tasting one. Not now, not when the memory of his mother is so fresh in his mind.

“How…?” Aomine swallows and tries again. “How are you still alive?” He sounds so awed, like it’s a miracle in itself that Tetsuya is sitting there with them. Weren’t it for the relief in his voice, Tetsuya isn’t sure he would have been able to hold it together.

“I don’t know.” He says blankly. He really doesn’t. “I woke up some time later. I was told my wound had stopped bleeding on its own and I simply hadn’t died. No one knew why.”

Kise who is sitting next to him leans over and squints at his neck. “I always thought the scar was too deep. But that is something else.”

Tetsuya allows himself a wry smile. “It was unprecedented. But the Teikou law decreed that the designated sacrifice must never be harmed physically, except for when the day of sacrifice had come. I think there was a big debate then, about what to do with me. But in the end there was nothing they could do. I was untouchable.”

“And your brother?” Midorima inquires with a carefully controlled tone of voice. It’s hard to make out in the unsteady light of the fire, but none of the four guards look particular well.

“He never quite forgave me for failing my duty. I should have guaranteed prosperity during his reign. I think he always resented me for being closer to mother; it only grew from there.”

“But why did he come after you just now? You said yourself it was forbidden.” Kise frowns. He’s started to use a branch to dig in the fireplace, but it seems more like an effort to keep his hands occupied with something and his mind distracted.

“My brother always plays by his own rules.” Tetsuya closes his eyes for a moment. “My grandmother decided to get rid of me by marrying me off, after she was approached by one of your ministers. She couldn’t kill me and since the Seirin had taken me in, she couldn’t even hope that I would die of neglect. And there was the issue of my heritage. Toru’s claim had been laid to rest when he was officially made the heir, but me. Well.” Tetsuya shrugs. “My brother… I don’t know what he thought to be honest. He had a habit of hurting the people close to me; I don’t know why he let me go.”

“But why all this? I’ve seen you fight, heck I’ve faced you and you’ve left me eating dust.” Aomine makes a wild gesture with his hand. “Why didn’t you just, I don’t know…”

“Kill my brother?”

“No, I was going to say run away.” Aomine frowns. “But killing would be good too. So why didn’t you?”

“You’re asking me to commit fratricide?” Tetsuya asks with the faintest of smiles.

Aomine flushes and looks away.

“I’ll crush your brother.” Murasakibara offers with a slight tilt of his head.

“No,” Tetsuya softly shakes his head. “It’s more complicated than that. I would have killed him if I could.” All he ever feels at the thought is regret. The years have ground what lingering affection he might have harbored for his twin into dust. His brother is a monster, it doesn’t matter how much they share. In the end Tetsuya has to do what he thinks is right.

“The Teikou have several families of retainers, one of which are the Seirin.”

“You mean the legendary assassins?” Midorima asks with a raised eyebrow. It’s not so much disbelief as the exasperation at having too many revelations thrown at oneself in one night. An emotion that is probably unique to Midorima.

“Yes.”

“That’s why Kuro-chin is so strong.” Murasakibara squints at him. “I met one of them once.” He sounds almost as though he’s recalling a rather fond memory.

“Yeah, we all did.” Aomine grumbles. “That bastard Kagami.”

“Please, don’t insult my friend. How did you meet them Murasakibara-kun?”

“I was on an errand for Aka-chin when I ran into him. I was visiting a cake shop. We got into a fight about the last cream puff.”

Tetsuya has an inkling he knows exactly who that someone was. “Did he have brown hair and really thick eyebrows? A tendency to laugh at everything?”

Murasakibara hums. “He was annoying.”

“Could we please get back on track?” Midorima fixes his spectacles. “I would like to know why we are in this mess right now.”

Tetsuya inclines his head. “We are in this mess because if I had just killed my brother, a civil war would have broken out between the factions within the Teikou. As I said the Seirin took me in. They are a very old family, but they are bound to my family through an oath. The same goes for the Kirisaki Daichi clan and a few other minor families. The Seirin have always been the extended weapon of my family, in charge of their dirty work.

“The Kirisaki Daichi are close followers of my brother, but the Seirin have long since objected to the human sacrifice. There is little they can do though. If my brother were to die that would leave me as the last heir of the line. The Seirin would follow me, but Kirisaki Daichi would argue that I’m not the true heir and break their oath. A civil war among the Teikou would undoubtedly spill over into the Empire.”

“But what other option is there? If Akashicchi had any say in the matter he would long have done something. But the Teikou don’t listen.”

“Besides, the Seirin are very skilled assassins, you can’t tell me they can’t deal with a bit of resistance themselves?” Midorima adds.

“At what price?” Tetsuya asks softly.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I like the plan.” Aomine reclines back against the rock he picked as a spot. “We could have added Teikou to the Empire if it had worked out.”

“We can still do that.” Murasakibara says with a shrug. “I’m going to crush Kuro-chin’s brother anyway. Aka-chin will be pleased.”

“This was all unnecessarily complicated.” Midorima pinches the bride of his nose. “I hope you realize how much could have been prevented if you had just-“

“Just what?” Tetsuya cuts him off with a force that surprises even him. “ _Confide in you_? After what you did? Or are you telling me this is my fault, because I didn’t kill my brother when I had the chance? Incidentally, my brother doesn’t just invite opportunities to be killed that easily.”

Midorima visibly flinches. “You are right. I am sorry about what happened, but it was necessary.” He says tightly, but is unable to meet Tetsuya’s eyes.

“ _Was it?_ ” Tetsuya digs his fingers into the ground. He wants to lash out with more than just words but he can’t.

“You were right, I could have just run away and no one could have stopped me. I knew what I was getting into. I can still feel _your_ touch on my skin when I remember, but I knew it was coming. I was prepared. But-“ His voice is rising, scratching against his throat but he feels like it’s suffocating him. His nails splinter under the force he uses to dig them into the ground, but the pain barely registers. “I still dream of you when I could dream of my death instead. And I would gladly dream of either instead of Haiza-“ He chokes off on a sob he didn’t see coming.

Someone pries his hands from the ground and then warm arms are thrown around him in a hug that’s supposed to be comforting but all he wants to do is throw it off.

“I’m sorry Kurokocchi.” Kise’s voice is a high pitched chant that bites in his ear. Still, he doesn’t let go, no matter how much Tetsuya fights him with shaking fists and trembling shoulders.

“I was… I should have…” Kise is crying. Why is he crying?

“Tetsu…” Aomine’s hand is warm on his shoulder. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d become. “We’re sorry. I know there is no excuse, but we’ll try everything to make it up to you. That’s why we’re here.”

Tetsuya wants to tell him that they’re here for Akashi, but he catches Murasakibara’s eyes over the fire. His eyes are strangely alert, awake maybe for the first time they met and he knows what Aomine meant to say was ‘that’s why you are here with us’.

Midorima hands him his feather, wordlessly, but Tetsuya can read his words in the lines of his mouth. The feather had always been for him.

He falls into an exhausted sleep, cradled in Kise’s warm arms, Aomine’s arm pillowing his head, curled around a single golden feather from a bird without a name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya wakes in the middle of the night, stiff with pain and sore to the bone. Their sleeping arrangement has shifted throughout the night, Kise’s weight lies heavily on top of him while Aomine has rolled away completely and lies now sprawled on the bare forest floor.

Tetsuya’s body complains every movement; his joints are stiff and the various bruises lining his body throb with a dull ache that reminds him all too vividly of what happened to him. Nijimura had given him something for the pain, but the effect must have worn off already.

Kise mumbles and hugs him closer when Tetsuya tries to wriggle out of his grasp. Tetsuya closes his eyes as a wave of pain hits him. He’d forgotten with all the comforts of Nijimura’s pain medication in what a bad condition his body actually is.

He can’t quite muffle the groan of pain that escapes him. And then, to his immense relief, the weight on top of him is lifted off as Murasakibara drags a drowsily complaining Kise away from him. Tetsuya curls into a ball as soon as the weight is off. The pain is no longer dull, but a sharp edge driving into his organs. It’s all he can do to breathe.

He can’t stop the tears though.

A hand covers his mouth and for a moment Tetsuya is hit with a wave of panic, but then he realizes that the hand shoves something between his teeth - fabric - and he bites as hard as he can until tears spring to his eyes. The f pain rolls over him in waves, but eventually the intensity subsides and Tetsuya can breathe again.

Murasakibara helps him up. Tetsuya feels weak, like all the strength has been sapped from his limbs. He lets Murasakibara carry him to the overturned trunk of a tree and set him down. Kise has fallen back asleep and Midorima lies with his back to them on the other side of the burned down fire. Murasakibara seems to have held watch over their little camp.

He regrets not eating all of his dinner. He could have used the extra energy. Tetsuya feels sluggish, but at least the pain is on a more bearable level.

“Better?” Murasakibara asks. Tetsuya just nods.

The night air is refreshingly cool against the throbbing heat of his body. Kise had been very much like a furnace. Tetsuya shifts slightly, sliding until most of his weight no longer rests on his butt, but rather his lower back. It’s not exactly comfortable, but sitting in any kind of position is a struggle right now, especially without his pillow.

Murasakibara watches his efforts, a strange expression on his face. Tetsuya has long since come to the conclusion that there is more to Murasakibara than brutish strength and a childish demeanor, but it’s unsettling to be looked at like that, when he has no idea what that is.

“There is no need for you to do this. Kaga-chin could have led the way just as well and you could have stayed at home and recuperate.” Maybe that’s what he hides under his childish exterior. The ability to see what no one could ever want him to see.

Tetsuya carefully stretches his legs, tests how much strength they hold. “What makes you think the palace is my home?” It’s the most roundabout answer he could have given, and yet it’s the one thing that answers every question in Murasakibara’s words.

And yet, so little of it is true.

From the looks of it Murasakibara knows it too. “You haven’t left yet.” He says as if it’s that simple.

Oh but it is. Tetsuya pushes himself up on unsteady legs. Murasakibara remains where he sat down earlier, resting against the upturned roots of the fallen tree trunk. They lock gazes for a moment. Somewhere in the distance an owl hoots into the night.

“I’m exactly where I need to be.” He says softly, so softly he doubts Murasakibara has even heard him. It’s hard to say in the darkness, but Tetsuya thinks Murasakibara is smiling.

He doesn’t know what it means, but it doesn’t feel like it matters.

Moving is painful, but Tetsuya only walks over to his pack and takes Nijimura’s medicine. It takes a while for it to take effect, and even then it’s only muting the throbbing of his body and the pain lingering in his backside. It’s enough all the same. Next time he’ll mind the dosage instructions Nijimura had given him.

He dreams of his mother again, his mother whose smile he can’t remember and whose features slowly morph into the red-lined face of Akashi Seijuro.

“Remember.” Akashi says with the voice of his mother.

Tetsuya tells them that he already does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the story is quickly told. He had survived but had no longer a home to call his own. Aida Kagetora, the then head of the Seirin clan took him in, on whose orders Tetsuya doesn’t know and never asked. It’s enough that Aida never treated him as anything less than his own son.

And Aida was it that first presented him with the choice to either live his life somewhere in peace or take up a weapon and learn how to fight and earn his place in the world. Tetsuya had chosen the latter.

Aida only had one daughter, Riko, a young woman of remarkable tactical skill, but he had picked up a lot of children throughout his life. Some were the children of servants who’d simply melded into the fold, others were abandoned children or runaways or the children of poor families who had no other prospects in life but becoming criminals - they all had found a home under Aida’s roof. And all of them had welcomed Tetsuya as one of their own.

There was Kagami of course, whom Aida has found abandoned in the woods when he was a mere infant. Kiyoshi Teppei, the son of a pebbler whom Aida had met and befriended during one of his travels only to watch him die during a bandit’s raid on his village. Hyuuga Junpei who was the son of a servant that had died of consumption. Izuki Shun whom Aida had found as a young boy in a brothel where his mother worked. There were more, but these were the ones Tetsuya grew closest to.

And even though most of them were commoners or even less, Aida had bestowed all of them with a name of their own.

Riko had taken him in as her disciple, along with Kagami. She had understood it perfectly to balance Kagami’s impatience and brash demeanor with Tetsuya’s innate calm and patience, until the two of them were an unstoppable force.

As peaceful as life was, there was still a price to pay.

Aida was bound by the same oath than his forefathers to do the Teikou’s bidding. And all his children - blood related or not - had to pull their weight. Even if Naomi was to never know how deep Tetsuya’s involvement went.

Tetsuya was sent on missions along with Kagami. Kagami - four years older than him - had become his sort of mentor, part teacher, part protector and main part brother. They had grown close during that time, welded together through the pain and secrets and the blood they spilled in the name of the Teikou.

He tells them about his brother. His brother who so openly gives in to the darkness Tetsuya tries to fight at every turn. Kiyoshi had not been Toru’s only victim. He could not lay a hand on Tetsuya and he dared not meddle with the Seirin for a long time, but he always found a way to torment his brother. He would attack servants who’d shown kindness to Tetsuya, kill the cat Tetsuya liked to play with and poison the puppy he’d found on one of his trips.

Tetsuya had thought of revenge, had spent hours and hours plotting how to bring his grandmother’s downfall: had thought just as much about his brother’s demise. Until the day he actually came close to killing his brother.

That day he had realized what a dangerous path he was following.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Shirai Toru had followed longstanding Teikou tradition and married young. His wife was the younger sister of the next heir of the Kirisaki Daichi clan, a good friend and his second in command as well as personal guard, Furuhashi Kojiro. The marriage instilled a sense of urgency in Tetsuya. With the birth of the first child the timer would be set for the next sacrifice. And Tetsuya was dead set on preventing it.

He would have liked to just kill his brother, but Riko and her father reminded him again and again that it wasn’t as easy as that.

And then his niece had been born. Kuroko Shizuka. One look at her and Tetsuya had been lost. She was so small and helpless, yet the grasp of her tiny fingers was firm around his larger finger. She gurgled up at him, unknowing of the fate that awaited him.

Toru had mocked him for his weakness.

“Take a good look at her Tsuya. How does it feel to know she’s going to die like a pig. I’ll make sure she doesn’t fail like you did. She’ll buy us the prosperity _you_ owe us.”

Tetsuya couldn’t tear his eyes away from the small life in her mother’s arms. Toru’s wife had ignored her husband’s cruelty, staring out the window with the same blank expression he so vividly remembers on his mother’s face. It wasn’t drugs, she had just given up.

Something had snapped in Tetsuya’s chest. The next thing he remembered was his hand at his brother’s throat and the sensation of something very cold filling his chest. He would have killed his brother then, cold hearted and without a shred of regret, but the sound of his niece’s crying stopped him. She had looked at him with wide open eyes, as though she knew exactly what he was about to do. The sight had melted the cold in his heart.

He had told Kagami and Riko that he had been angry, overcome with it at his brother’s cruel words. But the truth was he hadn’t felt a single iota of anger. There had just been the cold and the sharp clear path of revenge before him, the thirst for blood that could only be sated with his brother dead at his feet.

It had scared him more than anything else in his life. The capability in himself to kill as ruthless as that. It wasn’t the first time that he had wondered if he could sacrifice his oldest child had he been born the heir, but it was the first time that he was certain of the answer.

Riko had put a knife in his hand and told him to never use it to kill, nor ever let go of it. At this point it was too late to take it away. He had taken it and remembered the flutter of his brother’s heartbeat under the palm of his hand. Kagami had given him a promise and asked for one in return.

Thinking of the cold ice of steel in his chest, Tetsuya had agreed.

At the same time he had sworn not to let Shizuka die. But time passed without anyone being able to think up a proper plan that didn’t involve an ambush in the dark and no follow up plan. And then Toru’s wife had announced she was pregnant again, less than two years before Shizuka’s fifth birthday. In an effort to buy more time they had concocted a plan, fake the newborn’s death and hide him away somewhere.

But before the plan could be executed, Naomi had announced his marriage to Akashi Seijuro. She hadn’t bothered asking him and Tetsuya would have refused under different circumstances. But as it was, Akashi held the strength they needed to overthrow the Teikou and their obsolete Gods once and for all.

And then Naomi had died under suspicious circumstances and Toru had risen to power in her stead. Tetsuya had feared the worst for their plans, but to everyone’s surprise, Toru hadn’t ended the engagement. Tetsuya had been sent off to marry a distant Emperor in the hopes of bringing his family’s downfall. And Shirai Ryouma had ‘died’ at barely a month old to buy them what little precious time it would offer.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“So what does your brother want with Akashi? What was he after when he came for you?”

The question that stands at the end of his story, one equally asked by all of the guards, even if it’s Midorima who voiced it - it is a question that Tetsuya fears, because the one answer he can give is the very center core of his worst nightmares.

“To either lure me in or…”

“Or what?”

They share blood, Akashi and he. Oh how similar they are, down to the blood that flows through their veins.

“Sacrifice him in my stead.”


	13. A Single Thread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Today's fun fact:** A lot of the OC’s names in this fic have a meaning. Some more obvious than others. Some are just named randomly.

None of his foreign intelligence had ever unearthed that little detail. Kuroko Tetsuya and Shirai Toru are twins. The man looks like a perfect mirror image of Tetsuya, down to the shade of his eye color, but it’s obviously enough that he is an entirely different person. The way he moves, his presence, he is so unlike Tetsuya whose motions are smooth and blend in, while Toru cuts through his surroundings with the sharpness of a knife.

With little else to do, seeing that he is effectively Shirai Toru’s prisoner and plotting his escape can only take up so much of his time during their travel Westwards, Seijuro finds himself thinking back to their first encounter.

_“You.” His voice doesn’t shake, but it is a very near thing. He’s still suffering from the aftereffect of the poison - or whatever it was that knocked him out - but it’s more than just that. He’s been afraid - no not afraid but apprehensive - to face Tetsuya after what he’s done, now to see him like this, face an ugly sneer and a cruel twist to his lips, it is more that he can take._

_“Look at that, our princess is finally awake.” And just like that the illusion shatters. The voice - it’s not him. The face may be painfully familiar in built, but it’s still someone else._

_The man stops in front of him. Seijuro feels a familiar sting of annoyance at having the man look down at him, but he doesn’t give in to it. Instead he acknowledges his presence with a tilt of his head. “Shirai Toru, I presume?”_

_Toru, and that_ must _be who he is - who else would share Tetsuya’s face? - strikes him with the palm of his hand. Seijuro sees it coming, but there is nothing he can do, bound and dizzy as he is, except for moving his head along with the force. It still hurts._

_“Don’t address me so casually princeling. You’ve caused me enough trouble; I do not care to hear you run off your mouth at me too.” He strikes Seijuro again, but this time it seems less about making a point and more about asserting dominance._

_Seijuro bites his tongue. Except for physical appearance, there is nothing else this man has in common with Tetsuya. There seems to be little reason to his action, but Seijuro has the inkling it merely appears so on the outside. Only there is no telling what exactly Toru intents._

_“Jiro tells something funny. My brother’s sick and you got something to do with it?”_

_Seijuro shifts until he can look straight at Toru. “And what exactly is it to you?”_

_“That means yes then?” Toru smiles and it seems so terribly out of place on Tetsuya’s face. “Well, I don’t particularly care but you put Jiro in quite a bind. Your Queen gets sick and you discard him, is that how you roll, huh Juro?” There is something in the way he says it, the inflection around certain words that tells him Toru hints at a far worse meaning than outwardly apparent._

_And there is even more to it than that._

_“I don’t have to answer to you.” Seijuro says calmly. “Although I do wonder, why is it you were content with me, when your brother was so ripe for the picking?” This time he moves his entire body out of the line of Toru’s strike. He skims the tree behind Seijuro with his fist, but his face does not betray a hint of pain._

_“A leader’s competence can be measured in his subjects’ skills. I would say it’s flattering yours was able to apprehend me, but since the target was wide off the mark, I suppose it shows how well you communicate. Tell me, do you trust any of your subordinates at all?”_

_“No.” Toru says without even missing a beat. “I’d recommend you do the same. But I suppose it’s a bit redundant_ now _.” Toru starts laughing and doesn’t stop for a very long time. He stops as abruptly as he started. “See, that’s why I hate fools running their mouths.” He waves a hand and one of the men walks over. He makes it obvious how much of a hassle he thinks it is, but the disrespect goes uncommented._

_“Jiro. Tickle my memory. Why did you think it a good idea to gift me with this nuisance?”_

_“I don’t know what you mean.” Jiro says with a bored voice. He has the eyes of a dead fish, Seijuro notes absently. “You sent me to the room and I got what was in there.” He shrugs. “I really don’t see your problem.”_

_Toru rolls his eyes. “You had the perfect reference and you still missed. Jiro I ought to cut your pay.”_

_“You don’t pay me.” Jiro offers with another shrug. “Anyway, if you wanted your brother you should have picked him up yourself.”_

_“Whatever.” Toru waves a hand. “This one’s just fine.” He directs a smile at Seijuro that sends a chill down his spine. “Blood is blood after all. You might be just enough to substitute for Tsuya’s. Drop in quality, but what can you do?” Something about it, the way his eyes cut into sharp angles at the smile alerts Seijuro’s instincts. Everything before, even the expression of unnecessary violence, seems to have been distraction - a show put on for an indiscernible reason._

_“I would recommend not to kill me.” Seijuro says evenly._

_“Is that the part with the empty threats and you telling us of your precious friends who’ll come after me?” Toru’s grin is too broad, unhinged and he couldn’t be any more different from his twin. “Or do you think Tsuya is coming for you?”_

_Seijuro still has no idea what Toru is after or what he’s even playing at. He understands now what Tetsuya meant when he said he had no idea what his brother could be planning._

_It’s so easy to give in, just as it had been after his father’s death. The voice inside of him has merely changed tune. But he can’t. He can’t._

_“No.” Seijuro says. He absolutely can’t. “You just said it all for me already.” He has to trust his friends on this. It had taken breaking Tetsuya to come back from his other self, he can’t risk the price of a second time. His left eye is itching again, tempting him, but Seijuro ignores it “You should know that I could have you at the heel of my boot. Account it to my good will that I don’t. My guards won’t be as lenient. Everything has a price.”_

_“Yes, it does.” The expression in Toru’s eyes has changed. There’s a seriousness there that’s been lacking before. “I wonder how much I can buy for your life.”_

After that conversation Toru had ordered his henchman to gag Seijuro and throw him over the back of a horse. They had ridden for what seems like the entire day and then broken camp for the night. From his position upside down a horse Seijuro could hardly tell where they were going, but he’s fairly certain he knows their destination either way.

Their journey continues in that fashion, with Seijuro being handled as little more than a piece of luggage. And all the time he’s been wracking his brain, but to no avail. Toru may give off the vibe of someone careless, but he hasn’t let up once in his vigilance when it came to Seijuro. As much as it frustrates him to admit it, he can’t get out of this situation alone, and the only ally he has - his own dark side - is too unreliable. Or his situation simply isn’t desperate enough. He can hold out a little longer, even if only because he can’t forget the sight of Tetsuya’s mutilated body and the broken sound of his voice directly after.

The price is simply too high.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the fourth day they reach the border to the Teikou lands. It feels strange to Tetsuya to see the lands of his birth after everything that had happened. It hasn’t even been that long, but it feels like an eternity since he’s last laid eyes on his home.

They have to leave their horses behind when they reach the mountainside. The Teikou’s stronghold lies in a secluded mountain valley and can only be reached by foot. The mountain range itself is rather small, but is permeated with rich metal veins that have assured the Teikou’s wealth for generation. The range runs along the Western coast, leaving a thin stretch of land for agriculture and many a shore to house fishing villages and trade harbors. The heart and center of the Teikou lands lie in their capital though, a city nestled into the shadow of the biggest mountain, the very same mountain into which’s side Teikou castle is built.

There are multiple ways that lead into the valley, but only one as far as Tetsuya knows that is unknown to his brother. A small path winds up one of the smaller Southern mountains until it cuts through a break in the range and leads down the far end of the valley. At the ground of the valley lies a small village with the homes of the many Teikou retainer families and servants. The village is overlooked by Teikou castle, which has been built into the side of the biggest mountain.

They hide the horses at a small secluded cabin, hidden in the forests close to the secret path. It’s one of the Seirin’s safe houses and is stocked with food, firewood, emergency equipment and most importantly, a stable for horses. It also comes with a family of three who have been tasked with maintaining the house.

It is a rather awkward scene that unfolds when Tetsuya is greeted with a very enthusiastic hug by said family’s matriarch in complete disregard to his company. Tetsuya endures it as always. Despite the fervor with which she scoops him into her arms, the embrace is tender and very aware of his physical condition. Kagami must have talked to her.

In a way she’s just another stray Aida picked up, the same way they are all bound to his family through unwavering loyalty. That is also the reason she doesn’t ask a single question after letting go of him.

“I prepared your gear.” She says instead. They follow her inside, where her two sons sit casually at the kitchen table, watching with an air of boredom as their home is invaded by strangers. The looks they hide are not friendly.

Tetsuya wonders how much Kagami told them.

“There’s talk in the village.” Kureha says, after sending off her boys to fetch the gear. “Tension’s been rising ever since you left; your brother has made himself quite a few enemies.” She scowls darkly. “There’s talk about a lot of things but nothing’s ever certain. And there’re enough who’d swore on their parents’ grave your brother’s the best thing to ever happen to us. One day he’s benevolence incarnate, another there’s talk of blood and murder, but nothing can ever be pinned on him.”

Tetsuya stares at the wooden table surface. Erratic - his brother’s always been volatile. He used to think he was just like that, attention drawn too far and too often, unable to hold a thought for too long, but it’s not as simple as that. His brother knows what he’s doing, but his one weakness is the tendency to overlook what he deems unimportant. The people at the fringes of his world, commoners and servants, unimportant and not worth bothering with. Everyone else is tangled up in his net of sweet lies and deadly poison.

“It’s been worse since you went away. He’s lost his antipole and been spinning out of control ever since.”

Kureha was once a beautiful woman, but now a scar disfigures her face. Her clothes are simple, but her words betray the education that went into her upbringing. Kagami didn’t need to tell her a single thing for her to know exactly what happened to him. There’s a look in her eyes, a knowing that had always been there, but one had to know to spot it. Now Tetsuya wonders if he looks the same.

“Please tell me you didn’t just come to pick that red berry of yours from your brother’s claws.”

Midorima makes a very indignant noise, which Kureha soundly ignores. Tetsuya tilts his head. “I might have other plans along the way.”

Kureha’s smile is sharp as steel. “Good. I’m afraid of what your brother is capable of now that Mariko committed suicide.”

Tetsuya stares at her. “Mariko is dead?”

“You didn’t know?” Kureha sounds genuinely surprised. “Ah, but that blockhead Kagami wouldn’t tell you, of course. He’s been worried way too much about you.” She gives him a hard look. “Not that he hasn’t every reason to. But yes, Mariko hung herself in her room shortly after she discovered her pregnancy.” She shakes her head. “Poor thing. It has set off Toru on quite a rampage though. He ordered several village girls into the castle. I can only guess what he did to them, but I suppose waiting for one of them to turn out pregnant is a pretty safe estimate.”

That’s against the rules, he wants to say, but knows better. Without Naomi to rein him in, Toru has little reason to follow rules he never cared for. Toru had never quite forgiven him for failing to die for his fortune. His most recent lapse in judgment in apprehending Akashi, who is only a suitable substitute by a very far stretch of imagination, should have been a rather good clue that Toru is starting to lose it.

The two boys return with five sets of mountain gear. It’s technically possible to follow the path on foot alone, but it takes a lot of skill and dexterity and it’s simply too risky for inexperienced people.

“What’s all this?” Aomine eyes the straps and snap hooks with a critical eye.

“Your lifeline.” Kureha’s older son replies matter of factly. They help strap the guards into their gear sets - maybe a little rougher than necessary - but Tetsuya doesn’t call them on it. He puts on his own gear, wondering how much the people here know.

“You can walk most of the way, but there are some sections where you will have to climb.” Kureha explains. “There’ll be hooks in the rock. She pulls on one of the snap hooks hooked to Tetsuya’s gear. Have two of these hooked in at any time.” She gives Murasakibara a critical glance. “Make that three for you big guy.”

Tetsuya leaves his vanilla cookies on the table. He can’t have that smell right now without being reminded of something he so desperately wants to forget, but at least Kureha’s boys will appreciate them.

 

 

 

Kureha stops him before he can step out the door. “You mind giving this to Shun?” She hands him a small bag tied close with drawstrings. There’s colorful embroidery on the fabric, but it’s hard to make out what it’s supposed to be. The stitches are uneven and messy, but it’s evident how much work Kureha put into it.

“I will.” Tetsuya takes the bag and puts it away into his equipment bag. “Why don’t you tell him already?”

“It’s enough that his mother was a whore. Let him believe that the rest of his family is more respectable.” She touches a hand to her face without thinking, running a finger along the scar that cuts through half of her face. “It’s better like this.”

“Alright. I’ll tell him it’s from the usual source.” Kureha just smiles in response. Tetsuya walks to join the other four, already waiting for him at the edge of the clearing. It’s a short trek through the woods until they reach the small path that’ll lead them into the center of the Teikou’s power.

“Where did she get that scar?” Aomine finally gives up on finding a comfortable position for his straps. It’s pointless in Tetsuya’s experience.

“She did it herself.” Tetsuya replies. He runs one last check for his snap hooks. The path had been much improved upon, but some sections still require climbing.

“She- what?” Kise splutters. “Why?”

Tetsuya thinks for a moment, before he comes to a conclusion. “I’m going to tell you something about how this family works. I ask you not to divulge this to anyone else, as this is something that has been shared with me in confidence, but I feel it is necessary for you to understand some fundamental things.

“Kureha was a courtesan in one of the Eastern Trade harbors. So was her sister, Izuki’s mother. Kureha had maintained a high status and was part of one of the more expensive brothels. Her sister was off worse, as she was in a low class brothel, in addition to being saddled with a child. It is a miracle she wasn’t kicked out.

“It was Kureha who asked Aida to take Shun out of the brothel. I don’t know the circumstances under which they met, nor how it came for her to ask such a request, but I know that Aida complied and took Izuki under his wing. But then Kureha got pregnant herself.” And he understands now, after all this time he understands that it wasn’t as simple as an unwanted pregnancy. Some scars never leave, even after years have passed, he could still see it in her eyes. He refuses to think about what it means for him.

“It would have ruined her status as a high class concubine so she decided to take matters into her own hand. She took a knife to her face. I don’t believe it was an easy feat, and I don’t believe it was a simple matter to cut her face and leave, but she doesn’t talk about it and I wouldn’t ask. Aida may know but that is not for me to pry into. Either way, she ended up on our doorstep, well into pregnancy and desperate to a bone. Aida took her in without a second thought.”

Tetsuya takes a moment to look at each of them in turn.

“We might not be blood related. We might have been born strangers. But that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t go to great lengths to save each other. Kureha might be a common whore, she might not be one of my closest friends, but she is family and I wouldn’t hesitate a second to come to her aid.” He levels a look at Murasakibara, who had asked him this only a few days ago. “And that is why I am here right now.”

He’s met with shock and baffled silence.

Ah, he’s said too much. He didn’t mean to bare his heart like that, to divulge this much, but now that it’s done he can’t take it back.

“Kurokocchi-” Kise starts, voice wet, but he’s silenced by Aomine hitting his arm and a muffled ‘shut up’ from Midorima.

He doesn’t look back when he steps onto the path to lead the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kagami awaits them at the entrance into the valley, together with Riko and Hyuuga. It’s good to see them again, but greetings are kept short as Riko rushes them along.

“We have only an estimate of Toru’s location. He’s bared us from entering the castle. But we have a confirmation that he arrived yesterday evening with a prisoner.” Riko explains to Tetsuya on the way.

“Is he alive?” The words come out as flat as ever, but Tetsuya can’t help the slight flutter of his heart. He also can’t help but be afraid of the answer.

“We have no reason to believe otherwise, but it’s impossible to tell for sure.”

“What is the plan for now?”

“Regroup and decide from there.” Riko glances at the four guards in his company, taking up all the information they offer her merely by moving. “We will need to infiltrate the castle. And…” She hesitates, before she settles her eyes back on him. “I need to know if this is it, Kuroko.”

They’re almost at the Seirin family home, a large house in the village outskirts. Tetsuya allows himself a moment of reflection. His intention had always been to put an end to his brother’s reign. One way or another. But he’d never expected it to happen so sudden and with Akashi’s life on the line. He didn’t expect a lot of things, one of them being the frantic beating of his heart the moment he realized Akashi was gone and in danger.

“I don’t think we need to worry about Imperial support, if their presence is any indication. We have a plan Kuroko. It’s advantageous if Akashi is alive, but we can make do with what we have. It’ll be difficult, but we can pull it off.”

“We can expect reinforcements tomorrow at the latest.” Tetsuya explains and Riko visibly breathes a sigh of relief.

“I was afraid you were saying we should try a peaceful resolution.” She confesses.

“Please. Don’t think so lightly of my resolve.”

Her grin turns sly. “I don’t. I might have already ordered Teppei to bring Shizuka to safety. Also, we’ve distributed the weapons just in case.” She keeps her tone light, but Tetsuya has no doubt that Riko was prepared to make a move with or without his consent. After what Kureha told him, he can’t blame her.

They’ve reached the Seirin residence, but before Tetsuya can enter, Riko holds him back. Her eyes hold an unusual note of seriousness.

“We have a rather small window of opportunity and limited options, but…” Riko frowns and looks away for a moment. It’s unusual for her to be this unsure about anything. “If you’d prefer for Akashi not to make it out alive, I could arrange something. The same goes for permanent injury.” Her eyes are hard and unyielding. They deal in people’s lives quite frequently, but it’s unlike Riko to even consider crippling someone - it shows how far she is willing to go just for him.

Tetsuya shakes his head. “That won’t be necessary.” He can’t be mad at her for offering. Not when she has heard from Kagami what happened, sweet innocent Kagami who wouldn’t know how else to phrase it but in blatant and unfiltered truth. It is quite a testimony that she even welcomed Akashi’s guards.

“Good. I would have hated to uproot all my careful planning.” Riko sighs yet another breath of relief.

“Then maybe you should stop offering.”

Riko slaps a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t a question of plans. If you’d wanted it done, we would have found a way. We would do anything for you, you know that. It doesn’t matter how much it would have complicated things, we would have found a way.”

Tetsuya allows himself a small smile.

“Although,” Riko cracks her knuckles, “we can always arrange something later on.”

“Please don’t.” Tetsuya keeps his tone flat, but Riko must have picked up on something, because the look she gives him is compassionate and oddly understanding.

“It’s your decision. Think about it when you no longer need him.” She smiles one more time before walking inside, leaving Tetsuya to contemplate her words.

He’d like to think that he would always decide to spare Akashi’s life; regardless of that _thing_  in his chest that keeps telling him losing Akashi would be the worst to ever happen. He would like to think that he is benign enough to spare a life when given the chance. He would also like to think that his feelings are born as genuine affection.

But as it is, Tetsuya knows he’s wrong about the former two, but can only doubt the latter. After all, _liking_ Akashi makes it so much easier to accept what he’s done to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is the current distribution of our troops. I say troops but what I really mean is guerilla cells hidden in tactical positions, armed and hopefully dangerous. We unfortunately don’t know the situation inside the castle, but Izuki’s working on that right now.”

Riko kneels at the head of the Seirin’s dinner table, map stretched out in front of her. It’s a surprisingly detailed map of the valley and the surrounding mountains. Small wooden figurines, intricately painted and even more detailed than the map are placed in various positions.

“I have a question.” Aomine frowns at the small carved dog that is a stand in for Akashi, because they didn’t have enough human figures. Tetsuya hasn’t seen that dog in a very long time. It had been a gift after his real dog had an unlucky encounter with his brother.

“Yes?” Riko plucks the dog from Aomine’s fingers and puts it back into the castle.

“What do gorillas got to do with this?”

“Guerilla, not gorilla. Someone who fights from the underground using underhanded tactics in war situations. Usually put up by the population of an occupied area as normal combative operations are thwarted by enemy oppression. Or something like that. Any more questions?”

After no one speaks up, Riko picks up her run down of the battle plan.

Kise leans over to whisper in Tetsuya’s ear. “Kurokocchi, your teacher is scary.” Before Tetsuya can react, Riko throws one of the small figures at Kise’s head.

“Careful.” Hyuuga snaps and stands up to retrieve his figurine and check it for danger.

Kiyoshi ignores the entirety of the ruckus around him to turn to Murasakibara and ask:” Haven’t we met before?” Murasakibara glares in response.

Tetsuya rubs a hand over his eyes. Despite the severity of the situation, despite everything that is at stake, no one would guess at it seeing them now. It feels so much like nothing has changed from his days growing up among these people, yet so much is different - irrevocably so.

And nothing will ever be the same.

“I have an estimate of all your abilities, so I have appointed you tasks best suited for you.” Riko dumps another batch of wooden figures on the table, making Hyuuga wince quite prominently.

“Now do me the favor and listen real closely. I hate repeating myself. Midorima will join Hyuuga. The two of you will meet up with a small group of archers, here.” She points to a location on the map. “You will then spread out to cover as much area as possible. We have a rough idea of the enemy’s location within the village, read those who have the means and will to come to Toru’s help. I’ll have you take them out as you see fit.” She smiles wryly.

“You’ll be backed by a group of melee fighters, consisting of Murasakibara, Aomine, Kise, myself and some of our men. Remember, not everyone is involved. I’ll personally hunt you down if you hurt an innocent soul.”

She picks up another piece and puts it in front of the castle gate. “Kagami and Kuroko will infiltrate the castle, apprehending Toru and safeguarding Akashi. We should have the situation under control by the time you cleared the castle.” She sends Tetsuya another glance, as though she wants to make sure one last time that this is what he wants. “I leave it to you what you do with your brother.”

“Wait a minute.” Kise waves a frantic hand in the air. “You can’t send Kurokocchi in there on his own. He’s…” He falters under Riko’s withering glare.

For a moment the mood in the room shifts. Tetsuya feels the tension ripple over his skin, as everyone in the room must recall what exactly caused Kise’s complaint. Tetsuya keeps his eyes locked on the table surface. He doesn’t want to think of Haizaki’s face now, of the feeling that still clings to his skin and bones of being invaded so deeply his soul seems to shatter under the pressure.

The tension dispels with Riko’s annoyed sigh. “I’m not sending Kuroko anywhere alone. I’m sending in Kagami _and_ Kuroko to put a leash on him. If anything you should feel pity with our enemies.” She taps a finger on the map. “Now, the important question is, when will that reinforcement of yours arrive? Their arrival will not go unnoticed, so we better send a scout ahead to meet them.”

Aida, who had listened in on his daughter quietly up until now, leans forward. “I’ll go. I have a feeling this is just the right job for me.”

Riko frowns at her father. “Are you sure? I thought you’d want to overlook the coordination.”

“No, I’m sure you’ll do it just fine.” Aida smiles warmly at his daughter. “Old men like me should just get out of the way of the young.”

Riko isn’t happy but she does eventually concede.

“I think that should cover mostly everything. I’ll be meeting with Izuki in a bit to get a clearer idea about what is going on inside the castle. Depending on that we either start tonight or tomorrow morning. I’d like to regroup with our reinforcements if possible, but depending on Akashi’s situation, we might have to make a move earlier. Has anyone remembered their position?”

Riko waits for everyone to give their affirmative before she swipes the wooden figures from the table and dumps them unceremoniously in Hyuuga’s lap.

“Gentlemen, I suggest you get some rest. Or do whatever you need for preparation.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room he’s locked up in is surprisingly luxurious given the circumstances, not that Seijuro has much opportunity to appreciate it. He hasn’t been released from his bonds once since they arrived in the Teikou homeland. He had hoped to attempt an escape after a few days into his captivity, had hoped he’d be able to lower his captors’ guards by behaving well, but Toru hadn’t let up in his vigilance.

Seijuro is slowly but surely running out of time.

It’s just as well that his captor has left him alone for the time being. During the journey and at the nightly campsite he hadn’t had the opportunity to attempt much more than plotting. He’s paid apt attention to the way they’d taken and he knows the area well enough from maps to find his way, but he has to escape from the castle first.

His hands are tied behind his back with a rough hemp rope. A close inspection of the room he’s in has offered little of assistance, safe for an abundance of wood splinters. The castle is very old, but unlike the Rakuzan palace, it is built mostly from wood. And a lot of that wood has suffered from the passing of time.

The walls are papery thin shoji and wooden framing, the floor is covered in tatami mats worn from age. Other than that there is nothing else in the room. No furniture, not even a futon for him to sleep in. This, more than anything tells Seijuro that he is not likely to stay for long. At least he isn’t kept in a dungeon.

He doesn’t waste time before he sets to work. Prying a large enough piece of wood from the wall framing is hard as it is, but it’s not made easier by the position of his arms. He tried chafing the rope on one of the extending splinters, but he couldn’t see what he was doing and ended up accidentally punching in the paper window. Outside is an empty corridor and Seijuro entertains the idea of making a run for it and hope to find a knife or something, but he doubts he can break through the wooden frame, despite the condition of the wood. Besides the noise would likely alert anyone near to his attempt.

He breaks it off eventually but his elevation is short lived. He manages to flip the splinter and work it on his ropes, but he realizes soon enough that he won’t get out like this. The splinter only dulls against the rough surface of the rope, rendering it completely useless after a few attempts.

Seijuro decides to regroup and think of something else. He sits down on the tatami mats and closes his eyes to focus his thoughts. Before he can get far in his mental assessment, he is interrupted by the sliding of the shoji door.

Seijuro opens his eyes. Toru walks in and slides the door close behind him. There is something off about him, but it takes Seijuro a moment to understand what it is. Toru’s face appears blank, but there is that distinct attentive expression in his eyes that is so natural to Tetsuya. It’s not just his face. The way he walks, no swagger whatsoever, only the barest minimum of motion to get from A to B - it is as though he’s facing Tetsuya himself.

Toru eyes him for a moment and then his lips tilt into the faintest of smiles, barely there and yet so _warm_ and expressive - something he’s seen only a scarce few times but he’ll never forget it. The ground, even though he is sitting, seems to be drawn away from under Seijuro’s legs. The similarity is stunning, leaving Seijuro reeling in its wake. This isn’t Tetsuya, he knows it isn’t, but he can’t tell the difference by looking.

“Now, look at that.” The smile drops from Toru’s lips and is replaced with an ugly sneer. “It’s a nice little skill, isn’t it? I can imitate my dear elder brother so well, don’t you think?” Toru moves his face until inches in front of Seijuro’s. “You should have seen your face. Like you’ve just seen a ghost. Is that what you did to Tsuya, huh? You killed him and told the world he was sick?”

Akashi is still rattled, but he wills himself not to show it. “Kill him?`No. I merely took what was mine to take.” The words taste like bile on his tongue. But he can’t let this man know. How fragile his state is right now, how close to stumbling that little display has brought him. “I can only hope you hold better under pressure than Tetsuya did.”

Toru laughs, wide and unrestrained. “Oh you think you broke Tsuya with a bit of violence? Sorry to disappoint, but he’s not yours to break.” There’s a mad glint in his eyes that sends a shiver of cold down Seijuro’s spine. He’s seen a similar expression in Tetsuya’s eyes, only so much more restrained. There is no kindness in this man to counterbalance the darkness.

“But I’ll have a reward for your troubles. You see. Tsuya’s my twin. That means he belongs to me, body and soul. I thought some away time from me might be good for him, make him realize that family’s important. I wanted to see what he’d get up to all the distance away from me. I expected entertainment, a few heads rolling maybe, but instead he got cozy with you and your likes. He’s had such an edge my dear brother, but you dulled it.”

Toru gives him no warning before he roughly shoves Seijuro down onto the mats. The worn fabric chafes painfully on his face, but that’s not the worst of it. Toru’s hand presses into his neck, while his other keeps the tension on his arms just high enough to be painful. His face is close enough to Seijuro that he can feel the hot ghost of his breath on his skin.

Seijuro wills himself to be calm, while running through all of his options. He finds he has none.

“You see, Tsuya is _mine_. I appreciate you breaking him in, but I can’t really let you go unpunished. I have a reputation to maintain. And you’ve made your best effort to ruin it.”

“Not much to say about your reputation, if it’s that easily threatened.”  

The weight lifts temporarily, but only long enough for Toru to call out to his servant, before the pressure is back in full force. Seijuro tries and struggles all the same, to no avail. His head gets ground into the floor even harder for his efforts. The shoji door slides open again.

“This is highly redundant, but as I said. Reputation. Can’t have Jiro here think I’d let you off the hook without a little pain to compensate.” There is some shifting and then Toru slides from his back, while someone else, presumably Jiro, pulls his arms down and then spreads the fingers of his left hand flat on the floor.

“I’ll tell you a little story while I’m at it. Did you know that Tsuya, hapless little Tsuya with his big round eyes and annoying sense of moral, is just as much a monster as he claims me to be? He’s killed more people with his own hands than I ever have. And he’s enjoyed every one of them.”

Toru picks up his ring finger from the floor and the next thing Seijuro knows is the gut wrenching pain that sears through his hand. The accompanying sound of bone snapping registers a split second later in his brain. It’s all he can do to bite back a scream. Tears spring to his eyes and blur his vision, so he fixes his entire attention of breathing until the pain subsides.

“Still,” Toru continues as though nothing has happened, “he insists on doing the right thing. It’s kind of endearing actually. He thinks that feeling repentant would make up for any of his sins. He wastes so much time agonizing over right and wrong. While his sins just tally up, not that it matters. His soul is just as dark as mine. I suppose that’s just punishment for failing as a sacrifice. Or maybe the Gods just didn’t want a filthy little thing like him.”

Seijuro thinks of the scar on Tetsuya’s neck. “What do you mean?” His voice sounds terribly brittle and he can barely hold back the bile rising in his throat. But he has to know.

Toru replies with breaking his middle finger. This time he can’t suppress the scream.

“That should do nicely, what do you think Jiro? I don’t want him to pass out. That would ruin the ceremony. I like when I can see the fear in their eyes.”

Jiro just grunts.

Seijuro fights the blackness in front of his eyes. He’s covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Toru slaps him once.

“I told you. No passing out. Now come on, we have Gods to appease.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izuki comes back with bad news. He wasn’t able to determine Akashi’s location, but he overheard a conversation that suggested Toru was planning on entering the underground temple - and there really wasn’t much he could do in there.

And with that all their carefully composed planning fell into disarray.

Tetsuya is in the middle of a medical examination - one he has to undergo due to Riko’s insistence - when he’s alerted to the situation. Kagami is with him, unwilling to let him out of his sight for even just a moment. It does little for either of them but Tetsuya knows Kagami won’t be able to let it rest unless he’s seen Tetsuya’s condition for himself.

He feels better already. Most of his strength has returned and most bruises have faded into yellows and greens. It doesn’t mean he’s healed already, or that the sharp ache in his lower body has ceased, but he can move and he can fight. Even if the Seirin’s physician is more than reluctant to have him move out at all. He gets another ban on strenuous physical activity, and that’s when Izuki barges in to tell him Riko has called for an emergency meeting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The pain in his fingers has subsided to a dull throb, as long as he doesn’t move them. As far as his situation goes, this is the only good news he can account for so far.

It’s late evening judging by the scarlet hue of the sky. The air is still warm, but it doesn’t quite suffice to chase the chill from his body.

Toru hasn’t stopped talking since he fetched him from his room. Tetsuya is always rather stiff, polite to a fault and yet so warm underneath it all. Seijuro had never realized just how warm, until he can see the pleasant outer exterior of Shirai Toru that barely serves to hide the ice underneath. Tetsuya sometimes wraps himself in ice and steel, but Toru wraps a layer of humanity around the fractures of his soul.

“I’m sure you have seen the scar on Tsuya’s neck.” Toru does not await a response. Seijuro doesn’t deign to give one either way. “Funny story that one. You know Tsuya accidentally walked in on our mother’s sacrifice. He watched her die. He came to me after, crying, because he didn’t understand what’s been happening. So I told him to forget it.

“It’s been always like that with the two of us. He’s the sacrificial pawn, but he always ends up being the special one. Mother loved him more. He got to watch her die, while I was barred from it. And when it was his turn to die, he failed. Now no one can touch him.” Toru laughs as though he’s made a particular good joke.

Seijuro follows him silently, the man named Jiro dragging him along. He wishes he could ignore Toru’s monologue as easily as Jiro does. They leave the castle through a garden area that connects to a terrace built into the side of the mountain. In the center of the terrace is a low stone building. The mountain casts a giant shadow on the terrace, leaving the air cool and unwelcome.

“I’ve dreamt of the day I could wrap my hands around that neck of his and end it once and for all. The knife couldn’t kill him. The Gods couldn’t kill him. Only I can do that. Alas, you will have to do for now. Imperial bloodlines must be good for something. I wonder if your blood is really blue? Or will you just bleed the same color than the rest of us? I guess, we’ll find out soon enough.”

Toru turns to look at him, expression cast in eerie shadows that hide his eyes and cut his mouth into a cruel angle. “Who knows, maybe Tsuya’ll come and join us?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Less than half an hour after Riko’s summon Tetsuya finds himself pressed into an opening in the rocky mountain surface, waiting for Kagami to clear the path. The castle is filled with men and women loyal to Toru, although ‘filled’ is likely to be an understatement. Although a large portion of the clan and its affiliated families are loyal to the head family, Toru himself has always kept his inner circle small. And even among those, Tetsuya supposes there is no one he truly trusts.

That doesn’t mean infiltrating the castle is easy.

“You can come up now.” Kagami calls from above. He’s used the natural chasms in the rock to clamp in handholds, which Tetsuya uses now for his ascension. Usually neither of them would have to use equipment like that, but since Tetsuya’s condition is as bad as it is, they need to compromise. Tetsuya climbs up and through the small window leading into one of the castle’s lower level storage rooms. Since it’s built directly into the mountain side, the castle stretches in height rather than width. Yet the entrance to the underground temple can only be reached from the castle.

“The corridors are all empty.” Kagami whispers. “I haven’t seen a single guard so far. There’s definitely something up.”

“It’s a trap most likely.” Tetsuya offers flatly.

Kagami grimaces. “That’s what I thought. But so far there’s no one jumping out at us.”

“It’s more likely that someone will try and separate us.”

They walk down a corridor that will lead them to the secluded courtyard at the castle’s backside from which the temple terrace can be reached. Kagami had been right. There is no one there.

The answer awaits them in the courtyard, where a single person stands basked in the light of the sinking sun. Kagami and Tetsuya come to a grinding halt. Something cold settles in Tetsuya’s gut and he feels the darkness well up inside of him, urging him to cede the reins, to just let go. Before them is Toru’s second in command, Furuhashi Kojiro, the man responsible for Kiyoshi’s injury.

The perfidious thing about Toru’s plans is not their unpredictability, but that they always seem to leave one with little other choice than to pick the worst possible option. Tetsuya’s hand tightens around his knife. His vision is zeroing in on his target as he shakes the constraints of anger and emotions. His heart beat seems to slow in anticipation of the bloodshed. Kagami’s hand on his shoulder dispels the veil of bloodlust.

“Toru’s waiting for you.” Furuhashi says in a bored voice. “I’m supposed to play with your dog for a while, but I’d rather not. So if you can just go away, you’d help me a bunch.” He looks at Kagami.

“Cut the crap.” Kagami’s hand is still on Tetsuya’s shoulder, but the grip is getting rather painful. Tetsuya is not the only one holding a grudge.

“You think I’m just going to let Kuroko walk into your trap.”

“Can’t blame me for hoping you would. Well, it’s not as though I haven’t been prepared for this situation.” He claps his hands together and in a matter of moments the small courtyard is filled with dark figures surrounding them. “You better hurry or your husband will die.”

Tetsuya can’t help the tension rise in his body. He shouldn’t react like that, but he can’t stop his emotions from spilling over. He wants to slip into cold, wants to shut off his heart, but the fear in his heart is too strong. It’s an unfamiliar feeling.

Kagami’s hand slips from his shoulder. It’s all the communication needed between them. They’ve been friends - brothers - for too long for there to be the need for words. Tetsuya tightens his grip around the knife, wondering if Kagami knows how fickle his control is right now. Even if he did, there is nothing he can do.

The men let him pass without incident. Tetsuya doesn’t look back to see the moment the fight breaks out. There’s no sound, just the soft rustle of wind breezing over rocks. And then the sound of a body hitting the ground. He doesn’t look back.

He has to trust in Kagami’s ability. As much as he has to trust himself to hold on. He can't lose against his darkness now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seijuro feels oddly cold. It’s not just the shock from his broken fingers, it’s the stone surface beneath him and the sharp bite of steel on his neck. The only source of warmth is a soft trickle of liquid down the side of his neck.

He should be afraid but he doesn’t feel a thing besides the cold. Maybe this is how it’s meant to be. Dying would be an appropriate price for his sins.

The world in front of his eyes fades into blue.


	14. Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N: Today's fun fact:** Snails are hermaphrodites - to determine which snail is the 'father' the two partners 'fight' during procreation. Whoever stabs the other first with its love dart wins, and can inseminate its partner. Similarly, flat worms perform so-called penis fencing to determine the 'father' during sex.

Tetsuya knows exactly what he can expect. But there is only so much a three year old or a five year old can carry from early memory into adulthood. He’s been here before, he knows what will happen, but nothing prepares him for the force of his memory.

The room is empty this time, no incense burning his nostrils, no chanting filling the air. Just his brother and Akashi and so much red spread on a grey stone altar. It doesn’t help that most of the color comes from hair and attire.

There is blood too.

“I had a bet going that you would show up to save your spouse. So I got to thank you Tsuya, I got a free ride thanks to you.” It’s more painful than he’d imagined to see his brother again. It’s the face that greets him in the mirror every day, and yet it’s something irreconcilable with his self image. They’re the two sides of the same coin - two sides that’ll never be able to meet on the same ground.

“Let him go.” Tetsuya says with more calm than he feels.

Akashi moves, struggling against Toru’s grasp in his hair. He turns his head and the look on his face is something Tetsuya knows he will never forget. His face is pale enough to make his red eyes stand out in stark contrast. There’s pain etched there, more than a cut to the neck would account for, but more prominent than that is the complicated mix of emotions in his eyes. The disbelief-colored surprise, shock and fear and that small almost invisible part of hope and something else - Tetsuya can feel his heart shattering in his chest.

“Let him go? Why? Shouldn’t you be grateful for his sacrifice? This was your place. Maybe his life will be enough to pay for your failure, hm? Wouldn’t it be nice if you could keep living?” His face twists into an ugly sneer. “I don’t know about the hereditary line, but you might get an Empire out of it. You never really understood, did you? I’m the only one who looks out for you, who has your _real_ best interest in mind.”

Akashi’s lips move, but no sound comes out. The image blurs, superimposed with the memory of his mother on that very same altar, eyes vacant and lips moving on words that won’t come.

Toru’s eyes light up. “But that wouldn’t work for you, would it now? Sitting on a golden throne doesn’t become people like us.” Toru reaches down and does something to Akashi Tetsuya can’t see, but the sound Akashi makes has his blood run cold. It’s not a scream, just barely so, but the sheer pain contained in that one sound tears on Tetsuya’s heart. Akashi who can make an entire room fall to their knees with his presence alone, now can barely hold back a scream.

“I wouldn’t recommend you taking another step forward Tsuya.” Tetsuya hadn’t even realized he’d moved. “I want to take my sweet time with this one. After all, he shares our precious blood. Ah, but this is supposed to follow a certain ritual, isn’t it?” Toru flips the knife in his hand and rests it against Akashi’s neck. There’s a thin red line already; Toru adds another. Akashi doesn’t even seem to register it.

“But that’s always been the problem. Lies, all of it.” Toru laughs, a dry and bitter sound, unlike any other Tetsuya had ever heard from him. “What kind of Gods would allow for this farce?” He digs the tip of the blade into the junction between collar bone and neck. Akashi’s eyes widen for a moment before he clamps down on whatever sound threatens to rise.

“What kind of humans would continue to serve greedy Gods like that?” He yanks the knife out and throws it at Tetsuya’s feet. Blood splatters on his shoes. “Why bother with a stupid ritual, when you can just take what you want? But grandmother would not see that. This mountain is a prison, while the entire world lies out there for us to take.” His eyes settle on Tetsuya, hard. “ _Your_ world.”

“Toru.” Tetsuya says evenly. He feels calm but also cold to the bone. The world has slowed down around him. Everything has been reduced to the beating of his pulse and the slow steady trickle of blood pulsing from Akashi’s neck that matches his own pulse beat for beat. “His blood is useless to you. Let him go.”

“Or what?” Toru’s hand is still on Akashi’s neck, but the knife is out of his reach. “You see. You can’t lay a finger on me. Except you sacrifice your dear husband.” Toru’s lips pull into a cruel smirk. “It does bear some irony does it? What do you say you pay him back for that little stunt he pulled on you? I mean I could have thrown him down the stairs too, but isn’t there a certain beauty in having you do it? I mean you do have a quite impressive track record.”

It’s pointless to argue. He had known that from the beginning. Toru was never going to listen to reason.

“Is that what this is going to be?” Tetsuya bends down to pick up the bloodied knife. He flicks off the blood before throwing it far out of range behind him. He lets his own follow moments later. “I’ll make this simple for you. You die. I live.” He flicks his eyes down to Akashi, who has yet to say a thing. “He lives.” Riko would be mad. Kagami would be disappointed, but he can’t keep his promise. Knife or no knife, this will end with his brother’s blood on his hands.

So be it.

He sinks into the calm steel and ice, feels it trickle through his veins. Time comes to a stuttering halt, only for a moment, before it accelerates again. If this is what he has to do to save Akashi, he’ll gladly sacrifice his soul. He should probably be concerned about how easily he is swayed into letting go, how easy it is to make the decision when Akashi’s life is on the line. He doesn’t care. The world is bright and sharp and crystal clear.

“Tetsuya.” The voice is weak and strained - Akashi. Something pulses in his chest, his foolish heart trying to remember warmth. He won’t be swayed.

“That’s right.” Toru drops Akashi who groans in pain and curls around his hand. Only now does Tetsuya see the odd angle of his fingers. “Nothing comes without a price.” Toru moves so fast Tetsuya can barely make out the movement, even with his heightened state of perception. He twists Akashi’s finger - broken most likely - until Akashi’s scream echoes through the underground chamber.

“You can kill me, but at what price?”

Tetsuya moves. On a rational analytical level he knows it’s too risky. Toru is at an advantage and could easily kill Akashi in the time he needs to reach him, but he doesn’t care - right at that moment nothing matters compared to his thirst for Toru’s blood.

Toru drops Akashi’s hand and moves around the altar to meet him. He dodges Tetsuya and drives his fist into his stomach but Tetsuya doesn’t even feel it. The ice in his body keeps away all the pain - old and new alike. Tetsuya spins and jams his elbow against the back of his brother’s neck. Something skims his arm, skin breaks but it all drowns in icy cold.

Toru recovers quickly enough, but Tetsuya’s still a beat faster. He grabs Toru’s arm and twists it behind his back before pushing a finger into his pulse point. Toru freezes.

“Any last words, brother?” Tetsuya says. His voice sounds hollow.

Toru tenses but he doesn’t attempt to fight back. Instead he laughs. Short and harsh. “Is this the end you want for us? I die in your stead? You think the Gods would accept _me_ when they spit out you? What’s that for a happy ending?”

“There are no happy endings. Only endings.” Tetsuya shifts until the tension on Toru’s arm is at its maximum. He could draw it out, make Toru pay for every little sin of his life, but the passion in Tetsuya has vanished along with his other emotions. Even his overwhelming thirst for blood is gone. All what’s left is ice and steel.

Toru smiles. “You think I would let it end like that Tsuya?” His voice is almost gentle. “That’s not my style, isn’t that right Jiro?”

Tetsuya’s eyes snap up and there is Furuhashi in the entrance to the temple, and in his arms a limp and motionless Kagami. He hesitates, but doesn’t know why. It shouldn’t matter in the face if his frozen conviction.

“Go ahead,” Toru whispers. “Kill me. Bring an end to it. You’re immune to my poison, but Taiga isn’t.” The wound on his arm, a tiny cut, barely bleeding, but he doesn’t need to feel the pain to know it was more than just a simple cut. Toru’s weapons are always poisoned.

Something about that thought cracks his carefully crafted barrier of ice. Reality seems to break into pieces around him, reassemble itself and break again. Again and again. Every time the image he sees has changed a little more. No. He changes with every break and reassembling.

“Jiro has the antidote.” Toru says with a cold and knowing smile. “Enough for one. I don’t know about your husband, but Taiga’s got some minutes left in him.” There had been something odd about Akashi’s state. Aside from broken fingers and shallow cuts there had been nothing wrong with him. And yet he had seemed so weak.

How long?

He tightens his grip on Toru and lifts his hand. It would be quick and he would be finally free from his brother’s shadow. He clings to the fleeting feeling of cold in his body, the shield that infallibly protects his mind from pain, but it’s thawed away by the heat of his emotions.

He can’t.

“You’re lying.” His voice is breaking.

“Positively. But the thing is you don’t know what I’m lying about. And you don’t have the time to find out. So what’s it going to be? Turning this temple into a mass grave has something undeniably romantic, don’t you think.”

Tetsuya drops his hand, but twists Toru’s arm further. He wants to turn around and look at Akashi, desperately. He wants to reassure himself that it’s not too late yet, that he’s still breathing, but he can’t take his eyes away from the threats in front of him.

“Give me the antidote.”

Furuhashi rolls his eyes. “Sure and then you’ll just kill Toru. I should be offended at how stupid you think I am.”

“Put it down over there.” Tetsuya’s heart is beating so hard it’s threatening to break free from his chest. He watches with sweat beading on his face as Jiro puts a small vial with a clear liquid on the stone floor. He then retreats next to Kagami’s lifeless form.

So many openings for lies.

He should just break Toru’s neck and risk a confrontation with Furuhashi. But he can’t. The thought of putting either of the two men in danger has his throat constrict. The darkness - so willing to ease his pains earlier, all the slick promises and reassurances - it’s all gone now.

“Away from him.” He directs and Furuhashi shuffles away with another exasperated eye roll.

“Happy?”

He shoves Toru forward and into Furuhashi’s arm, while immediately diving for the vial. He didn’t need to bother as neither Toru nor Furuhashi have made a move for it.

“I’m quite disappointed to be honest.” Toru says after fixing himself up. “That you’d abandon all that cold calculation for the likes of these. You had the upper hand and you could have walked out of this with my blood on your hands.” All the taunting and the playful cruelty are gone. All Toru has for him now is disgust. “I could have backstabbed you so easily, you knew that. And yet.” His eyes flicker from Kagami to Akashi.

“I guess this settles it once and for all. You’re simply lacking in everything. What a shame. I had such high hopes for you.” He waves his hand for Furuhashi to follow him when he makes his way out of the temple.

Tetsuya doesn’t wait to watch him go. He dashes forward to check Kagami’s pulse only to find it fluttering weakly under his finger tips. He turns around and sees Akashi looking at him with a feverish expression in his eyes. He blinks sluggishly once and Tetsuya feels a wave of relief wash over him.

“Kuro…” Kagami’s hand grasps feebly at his sleeve.

“Don’t speak.” Tetsuya urges and presses a hand to Kagami’s cheek. He has only antidote for one person, if it even is the antidote. The cut on his forearm burns but there are no other effects. His stomach feels sore from Toru’s attack and his body is still suffering from various bruises, but as far as he can tell, he’s not affected by the poison.

“Th… poi…on.” Kagami’s breathing is shallow and he has to fight for every single syllable. His hand on Tetsuya’s sleeve tightens marginally before relaxing again.

Tetsuya doesn’t know what to do.

“…s made… his blood…” Kagami tries to say something more but no more sound comes out.

Tetsuya’s dangerously close to panicking. Right now two people are dying and he has the means to save only one of them. And he can’t even begin to figure out what Kagami is trying to tell him.

“Tetsuya.” Akashi’s voice sounds oddly clear through the chaos in his mind. He rests Kagami’s head and turns around to look at Akashi. Akashi has pushed himself into a half sitting position, resting heavily on his arms. There’s still blood dripping from his neck, but he seems in a much better state than Kagami.

Kagami… who must have been poisoned only a short while before Furuhashi dragged him in. Kagami who seems unharmed save for a small cut on his cheek.

“It’s alright.” Akashi is smiling, but it seems to drain all the energy from him to do just that. “Save him. It’s only fair that I pay for my sins. It’s okay as long as you’re free, Tetsuya.” Akashi collapses forward, clinging to the edge of the altar to keep himself from falling off.

“It’s alright. I wouldn’t mind dying if it were for you.” He whispers against the cold stone of the altar. “Our blood is the same. I can pay for your sins too.” Tears mix in with the blood from his neck wound.

Ah, he’s been so stupid. Tetsuya realizes what Kagami has been trying to tell him. The reason why he isn’t affected. The poison is made from Toru’s blood. It can’t affect his twin and it will have a lesser effect on Akashi who shares their blood, even if it’s just a little.

It might not be enough.

He picks up the vial with shaking fingers. He’s crying, a desperate stream of tears that can’t wash away the pain in his heart. Akashi watches as he pulls out the stopper and puts the vial to Kagami’s lips.

Despite his words, despite the smile he still forces on his lips, Akashi can’t hide the hurt in his eyes - regret.

Kagami swallows after Tetsuya tilts his head up. His breathing evens out immediately. There’s nothing left in the vial. What did Toru hope for? That he would use the antidote on Akashi and let Kagami die? Would he have done it if he hadn’t known?

Tetsuya can’t find the answer.

His limbs feel heavy when he walks over to Akashi. Kagami is asleep but the pained expression has disappeared from his face.

Akashi reaches out a hand, shaking with the effort and Tetsuya catches it in his. He might still die. They need to get out of here but Tetsuya is wounded and alone. He can’t carry the both of them - he can’t even carry one. All he can give Akashi now is the warmth of his body.

“I don’t regret…” Akashi’s eyes move to Kagami, sluggish and the usually sharp expression is dulled. “I am glad… I was able to meet… you.” Akashi’s smile falters and his vision goes out of focus for a moment before falling back on Tetsuya. “I only wish… tell me Tetsuya, would you… have ever forgiven me?”

Tears drop from Tetsuya’s face on Akashi’s. He can barely make out Akashi’s features as his world disappears in a blur. “That’s the wrong thing to ask.”

Akashi’s voice is barely more than a breath. “I’m glad then…” Another tear drops and lands on Akashi’s lip. “May my life pay for your sins… I love you Tetsuya.” His hand falls limply from Tetsuya’s grasp.

 _Remember_ , his mother’s voice says through the fog of his mind. _Remember_.

And finally, he does.

Their first kiss tastes of salt and copper, blood welling from the newly opened teeth wound on Tetsuya’s lips. He desperately hopes it won’t be their last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_He’s in his mother’s garden, the smell of flowers fills the air and for a moment it’s all that has ever existed in Tetsuya’s life. But this is merely a memory._

_His mother warned him away from the roses and their thorns but the rest of the garden is open for him. Kuroko Shiina sits in her usual reclining chair, legs stretched wide and watching over her young son as he makes his way through her garden._

_Tetsuya finds a patch of small white flowers, petals in the shape of small bells and he wonders if they chime when he shakes them._

_“Don’t touch them.” His mother calls and Tetsuya drops his hands. “They’re bad flowers.”_

_“But they are pretty.” Tetsuya has just turned three, but he’d always shown aptitude for learning, be it speech or other things. So when his mother beckons him closer, he follows._

_She lifts him up on her lap, the flower crown he had woven for her earlier askew on her head. “They are called lily of the valley.” She starts with a smile. “But here we call them May bells.”_

_“They look like bells.” Tetsuya claps his chubby little hands together, delighted that he made the connection._

_“Yes, but they are special bells. It is said that people whose death is imminent can hear them chime.” A sadness that Tetsuya didn’t understand back then crosses her face. He understands now, but it is far too late to change the outcome._

_“Do you hear them?” Three year old Tetsuya does not understand the gravity of what his mother has said, nor does he understand why her smile falters and she looks away from him._

_“Hearing them is not a good thing, Tetsu-chan. You should hope you never will. Something bad happens when you do.”_

_“But if I hear it before the bad stuff happens, I can do something against it?” Tetsuya frowns. He has yet to understand the meaning of death and fate._

_“It’s not that simple.” Shiina runs a hand through her son’s hair. ”You see. May bells are pretty little flowers, but they are also poisonous.”_

_“Poisonoos?” Tetsuya tries his tongue around the new word. He’s heard it before, but something about the way his mother says it is different._

_“Yes, it means one touch can kill you.” Tetsuya does not understand. Shiina takes his hand and lifts it to her chest. “Can you feel that?”_

_“Heartbeat?” Tetsuya asks._

_“Yes. Touching one of those flowers will stop your heartbeat and your body will turn all cold and you can no longer move.”_

_“Oh,” Tetsuya blinks, “That sounds not good.”_

_“It isn’t. So please Tetsu-chan, never listen to a May bell.”_

_“I won’t,” Tetsuya promises, clasping his mother’s hands in earnest sincerity._

_Shiina bends to place a kiss on his forehead. “Good boy.”_

_“Say Mama, what did grandmother mean when she said our blood was poison?”_

_“Where did you…?” Shiina sighs. “I told you not to sneak around.” She smoothes a hand through his hair. “It means that our blood is just like that flower. It can be turned into a deadly poison. It’s a curse from the Gods.”_

_“A curse? But grandmother said it’s a blessing.”_

_“Yes, she would say that. But I believe it is a curse. A punishment the Gods have devised for us.”_

_“Why would they do that?”_

_“I wonder…” She smiles again, but for a reason Tetsuya can’t comprehend her cheeks are wet as though she’s crying._

_“Don’t cry, mother.” Tetsuya touches a hand to his mother’s cheek, but the tears won’t stop._

_“It’s alright Tetsu-chan. Sometimes mothers just need to cry for no reason at all.” She smiles through her tears._

_“Did you kill someone with your blood?” It seems an innocent enough connection in his mind. After all, his concept of death is still a simple one._

_“No.” Shiina rubs her eyes clear from the tears. “Blood alone is not enough. You have to offer something of yourself in exchange. Everything has its price, be it power or be it the means to an end. In that way we and that flower are the same. People long for us the same way you long to touch the flower, but once they come too close we only bring ruin._

_“It’s a sad thing to be a poisonous flower.”_

_Tetsuya looks at the patch of white flowers. Even now he can still smell their scent in the air. “The flowers aren’t alone though.” He says and smiles at his mother, because sometimes sons just need to smile at their mothers to show them that crying for no reason is okay. “They have each other.”_

_“Yes,” Shiina’s smile is wet but heartfelt. “The flower’s poison can’t harm her or her brethren. And it’s more than just that. The same as those flowers, we don’t just hold the poison, we also hold the cure. The Gods may be cruel, but they always offer a path for redemption. At least that’s what I want to belief. Remember that Tetsu-chan. Your blood is more than just poison.”_

_Shiina lifts her son from her lap and puts him back on his own two legs. He watches her with wide blue eyes, still trying to comprehend what she said. He won’t for a very long time, so eventually he will simply forget this conversation._

_“Remember Tetsu-chan, the question almost always holds the answer.”_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seijuro has a weird dream. In his dream Tetsuya is kissing him. The kiss has an odd taste to it, salty and a bit like iron, but it’s warm against the cold that resides in the rest of his body. He wants to hold on to that feeling forever but it slips through his grasp like water.

If this is what dying feels like, it really isn’t so bad.

Seijuro wakes with a shock. Something’s dragged him from his sleep - if one could even call it that - and it takes him longer to process than it should. Too much has happened and he shouldn’t even be alive, but he is and he has no idea why. He’s in an unfamiliar room, but if the style is anything to go by he’s at least somewhere in the Teikou stronghold as wooden shoji walls and tatami mats seem to have been prevalent there. The golden light of sunrise falls through the milky paper windows.

He is fine aside from some residual fatigue in his body, the splint fixing his fingers in place and the stiff feeling of bandages around his neck. But there is a definite feeling of alarm that keeps his senses alert. He still doesn’t know what woke him, only that it wasn’t natural.

Seijuro shakes off the futon he’s been lying in and gets to his feet. The room is empty save for him and the futon, so it must have been something from outside. He gets as far as the door before he hears the same sound that must have woken him.

It’s a scraping sound, like something heavy dragged over the floor and it is coming from right outside his room. Seijuro retreats to the wall, checks out the window, but it seems the wooden frames have been arrested to bar from opening. He has too little overview of this situation to clearly determine if it’s a threat or not. As of now, it could be anything.

The door to his room slides open. Shirai Toru walks in; dragging behind him what seems to be the lifeless body of his subordinate Jiro. Now Seijuro can hear the faint sounds of fighting, shouts and screams and even the distinct noise of metal striking metal.

Just what is going on?

Toru is covered in blood; one side of his face seems to have come in close contact with the ground as it is streaked with dirt and bloody scratches. He comes to a sudden halt when he spots Seijuro, eyes wide in surprise before his face settles on something oddly close to resignation.

“You have no place to be here.” The words are bitter. Toru drops Jiro’s leg he had used to pull him along. The man doesn’t give any sign he’s bothered by the treatment.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly my decision.” Seijuro says with a dismissive shrug.

Toru grimaces. “This was my mother’s room, but I suppose that means little to you.”

“You’re right I couldn’t care less about your leftover mommy issues.”

“Right, you have too many of your own, don’t you?”

Seijuro doesn’t sink low enough to reward Toru with a visible reaction, but he does feel a certain sting. This is not something he’d ever allow the likes of Toru to see.

“I could say a number of things right now, but quite honestly I don’t see the point.” Seijuro leans against the wall, feeling the wood give just slightly under his weight. “You’re at the end of your line, so I suppose you came here to die? Please, by all means, don’t mind me. Get on with it.”

“Die.” Toru spits the word out as if it’s poison. “I won’t make it that easy for you. It’s you who should have died. I’m not that surprised that you didn’t. Tsuya always had a way to mess with my plans, but I am curious as to how he did it.”

As far as Seijuro can tell, Toru has no weapon on him, but he is entirely too calm for the situation. He doesn’t seem too pressured about the current circumstances and that has Seijuro worried. He doesn’t feel too good, and there is the matter of his busted left hand, but Toru is in at least as bad as a state. He should be able to take him should it come to a fight. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d left Tetsuya to the likes of you. I suppose he felt similar.” Seijuro says with no small amount of sardonic amusement.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Toru smiles that small hidden smile that is all Tetsuya and Seijuro wants to wipe it from his face, to never see Tetsuya’s beautiful smile misplaced again. It’s not his place to impersonate someone as pure as Tetsuya.

Toru raises an eyebrow. “I guess that means no.” He shrugs and then winces. “It is of little matter now.” His eyes hold an odd expression, and Seijuro is back to thinking how misplaced his behavior seems.

He remembers Kagami’s words, the message he attempted to pass on and Seijuro realizes that it wasn’t a dream. He can still taste the faint tang of copper on his tongue. To think what Tetsuya was willing to give to save him. Something about Toru’s appearance, the dull glint of something in his eyes that spells _wrong_ tells him there is not much time left. He just doesn’t know for which one of them.

“There is one thing I don’t understand.” Seijuro says in a conversational tone. Toru’s lips curl just slightly but he doesn’t say whatever is on his mind. “You set all this up to lure in Tetsuya and yet you didn’t try once to kill him.”

Toru’s expression morphs, surprise turns into a slightly off kilter smirk, as though he’s trying for nonchalance but failing just so. “Who says it wasn’t about you?”

“Assuming that would insult both our intellects.” Seijuro allows himself to scoff. “Did you think he would join you? I suppose it does have a certain poetic aesthetic to it, but this isn’t exactly your style, is it now? And it certainly isn’t Tetsuya’s. So what was the point of all of this?”

For a moment Seijuro thinks Toru is going to attack him, but then his grimace smoothes out and he shows a small, albeit bitter smile. “It should be obvious, shouldn’t it? He is my twin. What punishment awaits one who raises his hand against not just their own blood but their _twin?_ A twin that was also protected by divine decree? Not a hand must be laid on the sacrifice, except for the day of the sacrifice, as the life that is given is a gift sanctified by divine will - no mortal shall mess with the will of the Gods.” The last part seems to be a quote of sorts, as Toru’s eyes grow distant as he recites it. “He was born to grant me happiness. Yet, he didn’t die and I was barred from punishing him. He watched mother die. How could I not hate him?”

“And you let that stop you?” Seijuro forces the impassiveness in his voice. That part of him has outlived its use, but he’s watched long enough through his other self’s eyes to understand a certain truth about what lies in his heart. What lies in Toru’s heart as well. “Gods are just a construct of the human mind. To have something in the palm of your hand and not retaining it is unimaginable. A fool’s endeavor can only end in failure.”

“Shut up.” Toru snaps and the calm is gone just like that. “I am the older brother. I am the ruler of Teikou and yet I could _never_ escape Tsuya’s shadow. Even now. _Even now_ he evades me, because mother-” He cuts himself off and forces himself to breath a few times before he picks up again. “I do not need to justify myself to you. Your life has been saved on a whim but Tsuya will eventually tire of you. Like he has tired of me, and who could be closer to him than his own mirror image?”

Seijuro allows himself a display of objective dominance - a well-calculated smile. “All I hear is excuses. To think you held Tetsuya’s attention for as long as you did. Look at yourself and tell me, he didn’t have every reason to lose interest in you.”

Toru’s face contorts into a mask of anger. “How dare you-“

“Toru-kun.” Tetsuya’s quiet voice cuts through the room like a knife. The sound of fighting has stopped.

Something inside of Seijuro seems to twist painfully and then dissolve at the sight of Tetsuya. The relief that washes over him takes him by surprise. Tetsuya looks a bit ruffled and he’s splattered with blood, but unlike Toru it doesn’t seem to be his own. He swipes his eyes over Seijuro once, expression unreadable before settling on Toru.

“You’ve come to finish it? Took you long enough.” Toru’s laugh is bitter. His face is oddly pale, but Seijuro has an inkling it’s not from the blood loss. He’s worse for the wear, but most of the injuries seem superficial, although quite severe all the same.

Tetsuya looks at him for a moment, eyes cold and emotionless, before he sighs and the mask slips away, leaving an incredibly tired and sad expression. “No. There is no need.”

Toru grits his teeth. “You want me to live that badly? Is that what your truth is all about? To make me see the error of my ways by forcing me to accept the reality?” His eyes flick down to Jiro for the barest of seconds but he pulls his gaze away with almost desperate force. “Just kill me _Tetsuya_. End it. So I can make amends to my son and my wife. Isn’t that what you would like? I pay my sins in hell?”

“No,” Tetsuya repeats. “It’s not a matter as simple as that.” Seijuro has never once heard him sound so weary. “Mariko is dead, but I had as much a hand in it than you did.”

“What do… ah, so that’s what it was. I should have known you had a hand in it. How does it feel to have infant’s blood on your hands?”

“I didn’t kill Ryouma. What made you think I ever could? I merely took him away from you.”

The oddest change comes over Toru’s face. The hard lines melt for a moment and give way to an open and almost vulnerable expression. Tears mix in with the sweat on his face, or maybe it is just Seijuro’s imagination.

“You wouldn’t dare lying to me about this, would you?” He sounds like someone else completely.

“You would see Shizuka die for your success, but Ryouma’s death brings you to tears? How does it feel to pick deadly favors with your own children? How did it feel to find Mariko and know her death was on _your_ hands?” Even while throwing his own question back at Toru, Tetsuya still sounds exhausted rather than spiteful.

The moment of vulnerability is gone from Toru’s face. “I love my son. And I would have loved my daughter as well, if I had been allowed to.” He sneers, but the effect is somewhat lost on his labored breathing. More and more it seems as though he’s holding on to little more than a straw. “Don’t presume to know what it means. I didn’t have a choice.”

Tetsuya sighs and shakes his head. “And that is where you are wrong, where you were always wrong. Your truth and my truth are two different things. I can’t see your truth and you can’t see mine.” Tetsuya’s smile is bone-weary. “I suppose you’ve made the matter of who’s right ultimately inconsequential.”

Toru chokes and bends to the side to throw up the contents of his stomach - as if right on cue to Tetsuya’s words. When he looks back up at him, his eyes are wide and disbelieving. He grips a hand to his chest, heaving for shallow breaths that don’t ever seem enough.

“The answer was always in your blood, in yours and in mine. But you never looked for the answer; you were content with the death you found there. It could have been so simple for you. But you could never see that your blood was your cure as well as your downfall.”

Toru is on his knees, but even that seems to be a lot of effort. “There is no cure for the likes of us.” Toru has to struggle to get out the words. Something is wrong. He didn’t seem that badly hurt, bruised up and beaten, but nothing life-threatening. “Why do you think we buy our fortune with the blood of our children? That is our cure - our salvation.”

“Everything has two sides to it. We don’t buy the cure with our blood. We are cursed for the blood we sacrifice. Or maybe it has nothing to do with either of it. Maybe we just went wrong at one point and never stopped to look back. Maybe you made the choice for all of us. Our blood may hold the answer or it may not. It doesn’t matter now. It all ends here with you. Everything has its price. It is simply time for you to pay yours.”

“What did you do?” Toru gasps for air, eyes bulging and now Seijuro can finally place the symptoms.

“Nothing.” Tetsuya says as he walks slowly through the room, past his brother and closer to the spot where Seijuro rests against the wall. “I have done nothing and that is why you are dying.”

“Ah.“ Toru exhales on a shaky little sigh. “To think it would end like this. Mother must be laughing in her grave.” He attempts a smile at Tetsuya but it falls short on the blood bubbling from his lips. His eyes glaze over and he sinks forward without any more strength left. His fingers drag over the floor, as though he is reaching for something that isn’t there.

“I will be waiting for you in hell.” He whispers, eyes fixed on Tetsuya and he pulls his mouth into one last twisted smile. Their eyes hold for a moment, before the gaze in Toru’s break and he collapses to the floor.

“Nothing.” Tetsuya repeats. He comes to a halt in front of Seijuro. Their eyes meet. Tetsuya seems tired, but something in his eyes lights up for just a moment as they lay look at each other.

“Tell me, will I ever be forgiven?” Tetsuya breathes before he collapses right into Seijuro’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**An indeterminable amount of time earlier**

It’s fitting in a way; Tetsuya can’t help but think, for it to end here. The battle is won, although there is still resistance. Imayoshi has arrived earlier than expected, turning the tide just before the sun rose to greet a new day.

All that’s left now…

“You see, when Jiro first brought me Akashi Seijuro I was delighted. To kill him in your stead, oh wouldn’t that have been the sweetest irony? But of course it had to be my downfall too. Who would have thought he’s so beloved among his subjects.”

They’re in his mother’s garden. The air is heavy with the sweet fragrance of flowers, overpowering even the faint traces of smoke and the pungent stench of blood. The sun hasn’t yet risen high enough to cast a light into this secluded part of the castle. And despite the absence of both stars and moon, the garden seems to be alighted by an otherworldly glow, as though they’ve transcended the barriers of their world.

He’s followed Toru’s traces after making sure that both Kagami and Akashi would recover. Kagami joined the fray soon after, as the antidote seemed to have eliminated all the traces of Toru’s poison from his system. Akashi is still resting in his mother’s room.

With that, all the players have made their move.

Furuhashi is bleeding from a wound to his gut; one Tetsuya knows he won’t recover from. Toru knows it too, but he refuses to let go of his friend all the same. It’s weird in a way, but maybe all the more fitting. For him to cling to something in what Tetsuya will make sure are his final moments.

It’s too late for it to make a difference.

“It was obvious.” Tetsuya replies. He’s tired, too much blood and too much death, but this is the one thing he has to see to its end. “It _is_ obvious. There are few who wouldn’t die for him. That is not something you can say about yourself.”

“So that’s how it is? He’s still alive. I wonder why you would go to such great lengths for a man who…” His eyes flicker for a moment. Light spills over the jagged edges of the rocky mountainsides, but the shadows around them don’t waver. “Not even I went that far.”

“Do you expect me to praise you for that? That you controlled your wish to possess me enough to let me go for a few months? That all you ever did was watch while someone else had me? That you abstained from ever laying a hand on my body because you were afraid of divine punishment? You actually dare to designate yourself judge on someone else’s deeds and find them _lacking_ compared to yours?”

Tetsuya takes a step forward. The grass rustles under his feet. “You dare lay your sins at my doorstep. Tell me, what does it say about the two of us that I am not even surprised?” A breeze picks up and rustles the leaves of the nearby trees. For a moment it sounds deafening in Tetsuya’s ears. “It is of no matter now. I will see its end as I have seen its beginning.”

“Is that your rage Tetsuya? Are you finally showing me your true face?” Toru smiles, an expression on his face Tetsuya has never seen before - happiness. Furuhashi who lies slumped against Toru’s legs moans in pain. His eyes are dull and feverish; he no longer perceives the world around him. Soon enough one of them will have joined him.

Toru lifts his hand and reaches out the palm of it. In the center of it lie a few red berries. Behind him a few innocent flowers sway in the breeze.

“Mother’s flowers.” Toru’s smile only brightens. “It’s only fair that she is here with us now, isn’t it? And since it’s always been you, it has to be me just this one time.”

He could have stopped him. He could have intervened or spoken up or do any number of things. Toru might have believed him. He might have let Tetsuya subdue him. He might have done a lot of things. But Tetsuya doesn’t. He does nothing but watch as Toru swallows the small red berries, unaware of the death they hold within them.

“Do you hear the bells chime?” He asks instead.

Their fight after that is short and brutal, but Toru’s already paying the price for his mistake. Tetsuya doesn’t hurry in chasing after him and he doesn’t hurry to intervene in his conversation with Akashi.

He is in no hurry to watch his brother die.


	15. The Swallow's Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Today's fun fact:** Slugs (certain species that is) procreate by hanging from trees or other high points and let their penises dangle down from there (slugs are hermaphrodites, therefore both participants possess a penis). Some species have a penis that is just about the length of their bodies. Other species' penis reaches lenghts up to 2 meters (almost 7 feet). The slugs, however, can only couple if the tips of their penises meet (i.e. if their penises have the exact same length), which is not always the case.
> 
> Tune in next week for more interesting news on slug sex.

Tetsuya wakes to an empty room. He recognizes it as his old room in the Seirin residence. It’s exactly how he left it. And yet it holds nothing of the comfort it used to. He feels like a stranger in his own four walls. But the truth is, this hasn’t been his home for quite a while now.

Tetsuya stares blankly at the ceiling above him. It’s over, it’s finally over. Toru is dead. He should feel relieved, or at least he should feel less burdened. Things are sure to be difficult from here on out, but they’ve taken the biggest obstacle.

He’s been working towards this for half of his life, so why does he feel so empty now? It’s like something has been removed from his soul. A part of him he didn’t know was important until now. The ceiling above him disappears in a wet blur.

He doesn’t know what he’s crying for. He had hated his brother most of his life. Toru had always been a thorn in his side, quite literally the bane of his existence, but now that he is dead, it feels like all the hatred and anger have just disappeared. Toru is dead. It all comes down to that.

His brother was a horrible person, but he didn’t have a choice in the position he had been born into. Tetsuya had understood that, always had, but he could never really afford to think of it. Now all that’s left is regret.

Tetsuya lets the tears fall and hopes they will ease off the pain in his chest. They don’t. If anything, the weight grows heavier. It’s not just his loss. He had braced himself for Toru’s death, as little as it actually helps. It’s more than that.

Now that he no longer has the pressing need to compartmentalize, it all comes crashing down on him. The inevitable feeling of abandonment when he had been sent off to marry a man he didn’t know. How often he had wished for someone to be there and support him. The awful feeling of being at another man’s mercy, coupled with the knowledge that he had the means to protect himself but couldn’t - because what was at stake is worth so much more than his life. The night he thought would be his worst, the memories of pleasure he doesn’t want to feel when hands touch him in places he never wanted to be touched. The crippling feeling of horror and disgust after realizing that the worst night of his life was yet to come and he yet again had no other choice than to endure it. The feeling of Haizaki’s touch still clings to his skin.

He cries for all the pain he’s endured. For all the suffering he bore, just to get to this outcome. He cries because as much as he wants to say he doesn’t regret it - for Shizuka’s sake - right now he simply can’t. He feels too empty, too drained, too much like he lost something irreplaceable, invaluable and too little like he truly gained his effort’s worth.

But mostly he cries because despite all the pain he feels, despite the despair and loss and the world crushing down on him, despite all the reasons he should have to hate the man - there’s still a part of him that’s madly in love with Akashi Seijuro.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya feels guilty about staying in bed when there is so much to be done, but Riko is adamant. He is confined to his room until the doctor gives his okay on his recovery and to make sure he stays there, Riko designates Kagami his babysitter. At least Kagami keeps him posted on the proceedings. It’s slow going, as much of the village has been destroyed and Toru has done a less than stellar job in maintaining any kind of order before that.

Most of his men have either died or surrendered, while a few managed to flee and are now hunted by some of Seirin’s agents. The death count on their side is thankfully lower, although casualties couldn’t be completely avoided. Thankfully none of them is among Tetsuya’s friends. It’s maybe wrong to think like that, but with the burden still weighing down on his mind, Tetsuya has to cut his losses.

Hyuuga’s bow string snapped and injured him in the face. Izuki has a sprained ankle from when he had to jump from a second story window to escape a fire. Kagami had his close encounter with Toru’s personal poison and Riko got away completely unscathed.

All in all it’s thanks to Imayoshi’s swift appearance that they managed to get away as good as they did. It helps little to make Tetsuya feel better, that is until one very special visitor makes her appearance.

“Tsu-kun.” Shizuka waddles over on her tiny legs, long forgotten the days when she could barely stand on her own. Tetsuya had stared at the window, too low on the tatami floor to actually see outside. But the breeze wafting in through the reclined shoji windows feels nice on his skin. At the sound of his niece he turns and he can’t help but smile.

For once Kagami doesn’t complain when he sits up to welcome his niece into his arms.

“Tsu-kun.” She says again and presses her tiny face into his chest. “You stupidface.” She hits her fists against his chest, completely ignorant of the recovering condition of her target.

“I’m sorry.” He says and strokes her hair. Shizuka sniffles softly.

“She thought you were dead.”

Tetsuya looks up to see Kureha standing in the doorway. In her arms she holds a soundly sleeping Ryouma, unaware of the ruckus around him. His nephew had been born shortly before he had to leave for Rakuzan. Between this and the rush of faking Ryouma’s death, there had been little time to spend with his nephew. He hadn’t known Kureha was the one to look after him.

“Why would she think that?” He tightens his grip around Shizuka until she makes a harrumphing sound to let him know he’s overdoing it. He releases her reluctantly, but she seems to be content enough to burrow under his blanket to cuddle with him.

“Why else would Kiyoshi come and take her away? She figured something must have happened to you. Kureha smiles wryly. “She has always been perceptive.”

“Tsu-kun needs me to look after him.” Shizuka mutters into his side. She seems to be short of falling asleep, if the way she’s quietly smacking her lips is any way to go by.

Tetsuya fixes the blanket around her before looking back up at Kureha. “You’ve been looking after him?” He nods towards Ryouma.

Kureha smiles warmly. “I did.”

He chances a reproving glance at Kagami. “I thought you found a nice family for him.”

Kureha gives him a hard look until Tetsuya has to look away, heat in his cheeks. “Are you saying my family isn’t nice?”

“I didn’t mean it that way. You’ve been part of this family already, so I figured they meant someone outside.”

Kureha sighs. “And who outside would you trust enough to hand your nephew to?”

“Fair enough.”

“I should have told you, I’m sorry. But at the time we had other priorities.”

Tetsuya allows a rueful smile. “I know. I’m not mad. I’m just glad everything turned out well.” _Even if it doesn’t feel like that_.

There’s a lull in the conversation for a while. Shizuka is lightly snoring in his arms and Tetsuya feels more content than he has in a long time. It’s not the kind of overwhelming relief or happiness he had expected to follow after his brother’s death, but it is good enough. It has to be. At least for now.

“You know,” Kureha says after a while. She’s sat down and is gently rocking Ryouma in her arms. Tetsuya thinks if he could wish on a mother for his nephew, it would be her. But asking her that would be selfish. Ryouma is his responsibility, as is Shizuka. “I realized something.”

Tetsuya pauses momentarily in petting Shiuzka’s unruly hair.

“I came here once everything was over to see if I could help. Aida told me Shun had been in a fire and you know what I thought at that moment? That I would gladly give everything I can offer, including my life to protect him. And I thought how sad it would be if he’d died without ever knowing that he’s not alone. That he doesn’t just have an aunt but two cousins who never had the chance to meet him. She obviously didn’t tell me that he escaped without a major scratch until after I had that little revelation.” Kureha smiles fondly. “I think she was on to something there. I always thought I was protecting him, while I was merely protecting myself. If he didn’t know I existed, he couldn’t be hurt if I screwed up.”

Tetsuya stares down at his niece. He isn’t quite sure what he should make of that story. Isn’t quite sure if he wants to venture into that part of him that understands the value of it - the lesson to be learned.

“Life is too short for regrets. I guess that’s what I wanted to say.” Kureha offers a shrug. “You know what he said after I told him I was his aunt?”

Tetsuya tilts his head. “A horrible pun?”

Kureha laughs. “Now we can be an aunthentic family.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He has many visitors once things have quieted down. At first they’re all friendly sickbed visits that Kagami watches over with the newfound strict patience of a mother hen.

His surrogate family drops by regularly in different combinations. Shizuka all but sleeps in his room. But it takes a few days for the first Imperial guard to make their appearance. It’s Kise to no one’s real surprise. He’s oddly subdued but nonetheless happy to find Tetsuya alive and well.

Tetsuya learns that Imayoshi has returned home with orders from Akashi, leaving the guards and a few men for Akashi’s safety. He hadn’t asked anyone after Akashi and no one had offered, so he had assumed he had returned to the capital as soon as possible. To learn that he’s still here fills him with conflicting feelings.

“Akashicchi is revising a plan with Aidacchi and Rikocchi to stabilize Teikou’s economy.” Kise explains. Kagami is sitting in his usual corner and glaring daggers at Kise. They might have played a crucial role in Teikou’s liberation, but Kagami won’t easily forget what they did to Tetsuya.

A foolish part of him had hoped Akashi had stayed because of him. But that was ridiculous. There were plenty of reasons for Akashi to stay, beyond what their relationship may or may not evolve to. And since Akashi has never once deigned to visit him, it is obvious which one Akashi picked. The Teikou lands are still plenty, despite recent mismanagement.

Tetsuya stares down at his hands. How much would he be willing to offer Akashi? Even after everything between them. Part of him wants to cry at the thought of much he actually would be willing to give up. It would be so much easier if he could just hate Akashi.

“Anyway, how have you been?” Kise asks in an obvious attempt to break the awkward silence between them. Kagami makes an undignified sound in the background. For a moment Kise looks as though he wants to say something but then his face falls and he looks away. Most - if not all - of Kuroko’s injuries have been caused by Haizaki. The question is rather redundant.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” Kise rubs his neck. “I, uh, I should be going.”

Tetsuya doesn’t object. He’s not mad, not really. No matter how much reason he has to, he just can’t be mad. Kise and the others have become his friends, although he never quite saw it happen. And Akashi, although not quite a friend, has become something much more precious. But he can’t just forgive that easily. Not when Kagami still has to calm his nightmares - nightmares that have lost the edge of red and are all grey now. Grey and painful, filled with sweaty skin and breath burning hot on his face.

Aomine visits him next. Thankfully it’s when Kagami isn’t there, otherwise the two of them would have gotten into one argument after another, Tetsuya thinks. But then Aomine surprises him by inquiring after Kagami, asking if Tetsuya thinks he’s interested in a sparring match. Apparently he’s gotten a good look at Kagami fighting and now he’s rather star-struck, if Tetsuya would ever use that word.

More surprising though is, when Tetsuya tells Kagami of it, the reaction is not at all how he’d expected. Kagami’s flustered very obviously and alternates between insulting Aomine and asking Tetsuya repeatedly if he is really absolutely sure that Aomine thinks he’s strong. When the two of them meet face to face though it’s all back to inane shouting matches. It does give Tetsuya fruit for thought though.

Midorima’s visit is rather short and a bit clipped, but he makes enough of an effort to be cordial. It’s just not really in him. Tetsuya appreciates it all the same.

Murasakibara shows up once and keeps him company for a whole afternoon, talking very little but Tetsuya finds he’s very much like a cat that offers comfort merely by being there.

And then one day Riko visits him and the conversations shifts to matters outside of his personal well being. It is time Tetsuya realizes, he comes to a decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya is no ruler. That much he can say for sure. He can lead people well enough, but heading a team on a mission and holding the wellbeing of a whole domain in one’s hands are two different things.

But that had never been a new thing to Tetsuya.

“Are you sure about that?” Riko asks. She, Hyuuga, Kiyoshi and her father are sitting in a loose half circle in front of Tetsuya. The doctor had finally given the okay on his condition, so the first thing Tetsuya had done was convening a meeting.

“Yes.” Tetsuya leaves no doubt that he means it. Still, this is a big deal so he adds a few more words as explanation. “I had enough time to think about it. There is no better person suited for this job than you. I have too little experience.”

Riko’s smile is tentative. “I won’t say I’m not flattered, but this is a huge responsibility.”

“Are you implying I am shirking my duties?”

Riko rolls her eyes and Tetsuya hides a smile. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m saying I will blame everything that goes wrong on you.”

“That is okay.”

“But does that mean I will have to continue dealing with Akashi? I mean he’s been helpful but,” Riko shudders.

“Sometimes you still want to acquaint him with the wrong side of a sword.” Hyuuga finishes for her.

“That too. But I rather meant how, ah, intense he can be at times. It’s like he’s looking straight at my soul and I really don’t like that. And I have yet to find a thing he doesn’t know.” She frowns. “I feel like asking him if he can give birth too, but I’m seriously afraid of the answer.”

Hyuuga shudders. “I did not need that mental image. Did so not. Now I really want to run him through with a sword.”

“Akashi-kun can have that effect.” Tetsuya offers with a small smile. He knows his friends just want to express their worry. And it’s not that he has entirely forgiven Akashi for what he has done - if at all. But what his minds says and what his heart wants are two different things right now. Besides, there is one much more pressing reason for his decision.

“But this _is_ rather sudden.” Kiyoshi says with a thoughtful expression, before Tetsuya can continue with his revelation. “What are you going to do from now on? Of course you are welcome to stay here.” He quickly adds after an exchange of looks with Riko and Hyuuga.

“About that,” Aida speaks up suddenly. He exchanges a quick glance with his daughter before looking back at Tetsuya. “Akashi has offered to nullify your marriage.”

The words hurt more than he’d ever expected them to. Truthfully, he didn’t expect these words at all, but that only makes the pain worse. Tetsuya clenches his fist at his side, as it takes more effort than it should to contain his emotions inside. He’s felt most of his life that he’s unwanted - by his real family at least - but this is distinctly different.

Riko sighs into the silence. The look in her eyes is sad as she picks up Tetsuya’s hand - the one that isn’t clenched tight - and squeezes it. “I should be glad about that, but I understand you see it differently.” She smiles. Next to her Hyuuga opts to say something but is silenced by Kyioshi’s hand on his shoulder. “You should ask him yourself.”

“Either way, whatever your decision is, we will stand by you.” Kiyoshi says with a warm smile.

Something sharp twists in Tetsuya’s stomach and for a moment he wants to change his mind. It wouldn’t be so bad to stay here, with the people he loves. It wouldn’t be so bad, even if it’s not where his heart is.

“And obviously we’ll come and pull your ass out of the fire, when things don’t work out.” Hyuuga says with an air of exasperation. It’s just his way of showing he cares. That doesn’t stop Riko from punching his thigh.

“If any of you kids knows what he’s doing, it’s Kuroko. Usually.” Aida adds dryly. “Well, except for Riko obviously, but that’s to be expected.” He affects his proud father smile, which goes collectively ignored.

Tetsuya can’t help but wonder if he does, in fact, know what he’s doing.

“Well, I will have to discuss the matters of our marriage with Akashi-kun. But I have already made my decision as to what I want to do in my future. I will return to the Rakuzan capital with Akashi.” None of the faces he meets is surprised. Somehow that makes it hurt even more.

“I know it’s your decision but I have to ask. Are you doing this because of…” Hyuuga makes an awkward hand gesture.

“It plays a part,” Tetsuya allows, “but I would go even without it.” Tetsuya exhales on a sigh. He can only hope this won’t spark his friends’ protective streak. “This is something I have concluded from observation, so take it in no way as absolute truth. But I think Akashi-kun and I are very similar in a certain regard. It might turn into a problem for us later on if we left the matter unchecked.”

And then he tells them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya is pressured. It doesn’t quite cut it, but for now it’s the word that comes closest to describe Tetsuya’s condition. He’s outwardly calm, infallible as always, but there is a fleeting expression of wariness in his eyes, combined with a certain reluctance to meet Seijuro’s gaze head on.

Yet he’s here, accepting the tea Seijuro has made him and drinking as though he’s perfectly at ease, even though he is likely anything but. Too many unsaid things linger between them. For all the problems Seijuro had faced in his life, all the challenges and contests, he has no idea how to handle this one.

He contemplates begging for forgiveness on his knees, but the gestures is somewhat redundant considering they are currently kneeling in the small room that has been offered to Seijuro for the duration of his stay. Even when he was dying he hadn’t found the words to ask for actual forgiveness, nothing leads him to believe it will be different now.

It’s too easy to ignore the matter. Tetsuya had said so himself that night. Seijuro ignores the circumstantial strain the situation had bore. It’s too easy to ignore when the line of Tetsuya’s stance looks like it’s taut wire straining on a frame.

Never disturb what has proven itself to be a functional system.

“I transferred the rule of the Teikou into Aida Riko’s hands.”

Seijuro takes it in without an outer reaction. He would have to lie to say it’s a surprise. From his interactions with Aida he had gleaned that she didn’t expect Tetsuya to take over his rightful place. At first it had angered him to some extent, as he had falsely presumed Aida was refusing to hand back the responsibility. He had understood quite soon that it was something entirely else. As though he has yet to understand why Tetsuya would pass up on this opportunity.

For a moment there is the open expression of pain in Tetsuya’s eyes, as far as it will ever go. But it’s gone so fast it could have been his imagination. Only he has seen enough of Tetsuya’s carefully crafted emotionally barrier to know better.

“She will be the official head in my name. I trust you’ll support her efforts. In return she will make an effort to integrate our domain into the Empire.”

If nothing else, Seijuro can understand Tetsuya’s decision to stick strictly to business.

“I am pleased to hear that.” And he really is. Even if it’s just by proxy, but with this he can cling to the hope that Tetsuya won’t leave his life forever. Near-death has a tendency to shift one’s perspective; even Seijuro isn’t immune to that. But even so, his tongue is tied on what he really needs to say.

He has no right to anyway. All he has left to give to Tetsuya is his freedom.

“I will see to it that your domain’s independence shall not be infringed upon. If that is what you want.” He adds as an afterthought. “But it would please me to have our relations to be fruitful and based on trust in the future.” And that is as much as he dares to say.

Tetsuya sizes him up in a quiet manner, eyes drawn together lightly as though he is evaluating him anew. Maybe he does. “I won’t be staying here. I will come back with you.” Tetsuya puts little inflection into his words. Not that it’s necessary.

Seijuro’s mind - independently from his emotions - picks apart the information he has been given. A statement, an unexpected decision and no doubt whatsoever in the expression of either. He even analyzes the many reasons Tetsuya could possibly have for this decision - a thirst for power and influence being among the top contenders, mainly for probability - all so he doesn’t have to face the floorless feeling in his chest. Hope is an unfamiliar feeling for him. All he ever wanted in life he had taken.

“That is a surprise.” Seijuro says quietly. It’s neutral enough, but he really doesn’t trust his emotions right now. He realizes he has given Tetsuya too little response a moment later. He’s fast and it takes less than the blink of an eye for Seijuro to find himself pinned to the ground by an unusually angry and shaking Tetsuya.

Tetsuya fists his hands in the front of Akashi’s kimono. There’s an uncharacteristic amount of emotions on his face, anger being the least of them. The rest Seijuro finds he has a hard time to decipher. Too much he didn’t expect and even more he didn’t dare to hope for.

“How dare you.” Tetsuya’s voice is calm, even now. But the shaking of his hands betrays what his voice seems to be unable to convey. “How dare you act like nothing has happened? How dare you make the decision to end it, just like that? How about for once you try to own up to your mistakes.”

There are tears now, warm and wet dropping on his face like gentle spring rain. Seijuro lifts a hand and puts it on Tetsuya’s that’s still clenching his kimono. He can feel the shaking through his fingers, cool and desperate like he’s holding on to a lifeline made from straw.

“This is me owning up to my mistakes.” Seijuro says eventually. “I have no right to ask you to come back. I have no right to you at all.” He lifts one hand to rest on Tetsuya’s cheek. His hand is trembling now. “All I can do is let you go.” But that’s just the thing isn’t it? He can’t possibly let Tetsuya go, even after everything that passed between them.

Even after having Tetsuya raped by a man he knew was out for blood.

The truth hurts. But he deserves that.

“And you think that is what I want? You think offering to die for me would make up for everything?”

Tetsuya’s shape blurs around the edges and Seijuro realizes with an odd feeling of surprise that he’s crying too. Not for himself, but for the pain that’s so obvious on Tetsuya’s face.

“I don’t know.” He would hate how his voice betrays his weakness, but right now he can’t find it in him to care. “I only know that I hurt you and that I have no right to ask you for forgiveness. But what I do know is that I won’t ever stop trying to atone.” He drops his hand again, but his eyes keep steady on Tetsuya. It’s as if he lies himself open for Tetsuya to read.

“That’s selfish.” Tetsuya says. Seijuro blinks. “You think it would be enough to atone for yourself. What is that going to change?”

Seijuro swallows. “Nothing. But, Tets-“ No, he can’t call him that anymore. He never had the right to begin with. “Kuroko-“ It doesn’t make it easier. He finds it hard to meet Kuroko’s eyes, even through the mist of his tears. Kuroko’s hands are still gripped tightly around his collar, and Seijuro starts to think that this is maybe how it was always supposed to be. He at Kuroko’s mercy - Kuroko who spared his brother’s life once, because Seijuro’s life was on the line

“I have known the answer all my life. There was never any doubt what to do, what was right. _I_ was always right. And now. The mere thought of your rejection scares me. I…”

Kuroko doesn’t let him finish. The kiss tastes of salt and tea. It’s wet, little more than the press of lips against lips, but it sends a feeling of warmth through Seijuro’s body. It’s been - and he only realizes that now - something he had wanted to do for a very long time. The kiss sparks a memory of another time, of another kiss mixed with the coppery tang of blood.

He owes Kuroko more than just an apology. He owes him his life.

Seijuro lifts his hand but Kuroko breaks away before he can connect. “You will have to work for your forgiveness.” Kuroko’s voice is shaky, but his eyes are warm through the residual wetness of tears. There is a warm flutter in Seijuro’s belly, small and tentative, so he lets it be for now, lets it soak up in the memory of warm lips against his.

“I will.” Seijuro’s voice leaves no doubt it’s a promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s never that simple. Tetsuya knows it won’t be easy. He can’t help the doubts, nor can he help the vivid memories that sometimes rise and fuel his doubts. He can’t help the moments when reality feels like unraveling between his fingers, when he’s back in that room and his voice breaks on his tongue.

It never really is that simple.

Kagami, understandably, is furious. Not in the openly enraged way Tetsuya had expected, but in a far more devastating way, looking at him with an expression so lost and questioning - it’s fury and pain and confusion all wrapped into one mix. Unlike Riko and the others, he doesn’t understand and Tetsuya envies him for his blissful ignorance.

“Let me come with you.” It’s the obvious reaction, one that Tetsuya has seen coming and feared as much as he welcomes it.

Part of him wants to say yes, just for the familiarity of it. But, “you can’t.”

Kagami’s face falls but he doesn’t look surprised. “Someone has to be there for Shizuka?”

“She took a liking to you.” Tetsuya says with a helpless shrug. He will always be her favorite if her words are to be believed, but in his absence Shizuka has taken to Kagami like a duckling to its mother.

“Okay.” Kagami takes a deep breath. “I guess you have your reasons, and I will trust you on that. but how sure are you that the same thing that happened last time won’t happen again?”

“Fairly sure.” Tetsuya says. He tilts his head slightly. It’s not gone completely, the dark pull in his heart, but it hasn’t had any reaction since the day he faced his brother. It’s not exactly like it’s sleeping, more like it has reached the natural end of its lifespan. Tetsuya has no more use for it. Not when he finds so much more strength in the need to protect what he loves. That doesn’t mean he has mellowed out though. “But this time I have no reason to hold back.”

Kagami stares for a moment before he lets out a soft laugh. “Fair enough.”

And that‘s that.

In the end Kagami insists on accompanying him on their way back to the Rakuzan capital. It’s a compromise, but one Tetsuya is rather relieved for. It’s not that he feels worried for his safety, but he’s glad for someone to distract everyone’s attention away from him. And Kagami is just excitable enough - in all its iterations - to be the perfect distraction.

Tetsuya is as sure as he can be which doesn’t mean he is free of doubts. Akashi makes an effort to give him his space, but Tetsuya doesn’t miss the ways he looks at him sometimes. Still, he doesn’t make any move and Tetsuya is grateful for the opportunity to sort his thoughts.

Kagami is understandably wary of his companions, but he continues failing to put it into any real action. Most of that is thanks to Aomine who bothers him for hours on end until Kagami finally agrees to a mock fight. It goes as well as Tetsuya predicts, with Aomine eating dust after only a flash of steel and red, but Aomine - ever the good sport - gets excited rather than annoyed. And Kagami, who had undoubtedly hoped to shake Aomine off his tail, gets a very enthusiastic new pupil instead.

The odd thing though is how well the two of them get along. Kagami is generally too good for this world, in Tetsuya’s deeply biased opinion, but he has the well developed ability to put his foot down and tell people off if they get on his nerves. With Aomine though, he never does. They bicker endlessly, get into stupid fights that usually end up pulling Kise unwittingly into the fray and only ever end when Midorima gets too irritable to ignore. But Kagami always goes along, even though he doesn’t have to.

“He’s not my friend.” Kagami insists on their last night on the road. Tomorrow they will reach the capital. Kagami will stay one night and then return on his own, unwillingly but ever faithful. “He just needs some guidance is all.” Kagami nods as though he actually believes his own words. He doesn’t bother to lower his voice either, probably unaware how close he is to incent another ridiculous argument with Aomine.

“Uh-huh.” Tetsuya hides a smile.

“What?” Kagami demands.

It may be selfish of him, but the thought of Kagami getting along with Akashi’s guards makes it somewhat easier for him to come to terms with his own situation. Makes it easier to accept how easy it is to forget what happened during the light of day. Nights are a whole other matter.

“I didn’t say anything.” Tetsuya says with an as innocent face as possible.

“Come on; don’t pull that crap on me. You obviously want to make a point.”

“I think I already made it.” Tetsuya says smoothly, just as Aomine predictably walks up to them to demand to know what they are talking about.

“You better not be talking shit about me.” Aomine accuses Kagami with his next breath. Kagami rises to the bait easily, is halfway up and in Aomine’s space before it finally settles what Tetsuya had said. He freezes halfway, a truly comical sight, and turns his face back to Tetsuya. There’s a slightly panicked expression there. Tetsuya just smiles smugly.

“What’s up with you?” And it just drives the nail home that Aomine’s voice is actually _worried_. Well, as worried as Aomine can get with what he must consider as his own personal and very much favorite rival.

“Nothing.” Kagami grumbles and finally gets up completely. Now that he’s standing he seems to realize he can’t just sit back down again, but rising to Aomine’s challenge isn’t an option either, so he does what any responsible adult would do and stalks off.

Tetsuya is glad he’s mastered the art of hiding his emotions completely. Aomine shoots him a confused glance and Tetsuya just shrugs.

“Did something happen?” Aomine asks, obviously confused. It’s remarkable really, how much he obviously wants to go after Kagami right now, but holds himself back for the sake of - well that’s still up for debate.

“How would you describe your relationship with Kagami-kun?” Tetsuya asks with his head tilted. Aomine seems less oblivious than Kagami, but Tetsuya is curious how far his observations match with reality.

“Huh?” Aomine plops down next to him. His gaze strays to where Kagami has disappeared up the small that overlooks their campsite. But for now he seems to be content keeping Tetsuya company. “Why do you want to know? I mean there isn’t much of a relationship. We’re just…” He makes a hand gesture that could very much mean anything.

Tetsuya tilts his head further.

“Uh… not enough?”

“You tell me.”

“Damn it Tetsu. There’s really not much to say. We just get each other. I think. I mean I get along with Kise well enough, but he always ends up crying at some point, because deep down he’s a precious little flower that wants harmony for everyone. I guess there’s nothing wrong with that, but sometimes a guy needs to blow off some steam. And Kagami just gets it. You know. He’s not afraid to get down and dirty and he’s not - sorry that’s not supposed to be an insult - but he’s not like you. I mean I can fight you, but you’ll never let me lay a hand on you and if, by some miracle I manage to break your defense I would have more than just one crazy mad person to answer to.” Aomine looks away. “I’m not saying I’m holding back with you or anything, just…”

“You should go after him.” Tetsuya says, because he really doesn’t want to think about that now.

Aomine hesitates, frowns. “Tetsu…”

“Aomine-kun, I would appreciate if you could be a good friend to Kagami-kun. He doesn’t get out too often.”

Aomine flounders for a moment, before he nods once. “You guys are so weird.” His smile is soft and warm, enough so that Tetsuya has to look away. Aomine still ruffles his hair.

“Oi Kagami.” Aomine shouts when he’s halfway up the hill. He turns back to wink at Tetsuya once, before sprinting up the last few meters, before disappearing from view.

Tetsuya allows himself a small content smile.

One of the downsides - and that’s a flexible term in this case, because it’s not necessarily always bad - of Kagami’s absence is that now the others feel invited to bless him with their presence. The only one who tends to bother them on their own is Aomine, but his target focus has shifted primarily to Kagami.

And true to form, only moments after Aomine has scampered off, Kise walks over with a small hesitant smile. Oddly enough, Kise who has always been the most outgoing and open hearted, has been the one who’s receded the most. He still pays apt attention to Tetsuya, still offers his enthusiasm, but he has developed a careful reluctance to touch Tetsuya ever since he offered them his story. No impromptu hugs, no spontaneous cuddling - nothing. Instead Kise treats him with the sort of restrained care one would afford a fragile porcelain doll.

“Kurokocchi, I brought you food.” Kise is excited enough to bounce on his feet, but when he holds out the food - piece of bread, a small hard corner of cheese and a handful of cherries he must have foraged from somewhere - he is careful not to let their fingers touch.

“The cherries are from Murasakibaracchi actually.”

Indeed, Murasakibara sits a way off, lap full of cherries, which he insists on feeding Akashi with. Akashi, who’s in the middle of a conversation with Midorima indulges him with remarkable patience.

Kise sits down a ways next to him, leaving a substantial amount of space between them. Usually, he would have draped himself all over Tetsuya, demand to be fed from his hand and generally be a rather a handful with all his overexcitement. It’s odd how much he misses it.

Tetsuya puts the cherries to the side for later and starts eating his dinner. They’ve made an early break for once, as they won’t reach the capital today unless riding until well into the night. They’ll only need half of tomorrow to reach home, so a few more hours spend today in peace won’t hurt.

Tetsuya doesn’t say it, but he’s well away that it’s for his sake. He practiced some with Kagami the day before, but already his stamina is suffering. And since it had never been great to begin with, he had to stop after barely halfway through their regular menu.

“What did you talk about with Kagamicchi? He seemed flustered.” Kise stares up the hill where Kagami and Aomine have disappeared. “Did he finally realize he likes Aominecchi?”

Sometimes it’s too easy to forget how perceptive Kise is. “Something like that.” Tetsuya says with a small smile. And that’s something he noticed about himself. He’s been smiling so much more lately. Just because he feels like expressing what he feels openly instead of hiding it. Smiling, even if it’s just small, makes him feel calm and warm inside. And it pays off doubly when he sees the others’ reactions, like Kagami whose eyes grow soft and warm and he looks at Tetsuya with so much affection it sets his heart at peace.

And of course there is Akashi who’s always watching one way or another, from a distance and whose eyes hold a different kind of warmth, mixed in with guilt and other things. And every time Tetsuya smiles, even if not at him, something seems to melt in his expression. Like Tetsuya is the very center of his world. It’s a scary thought, one that warms him all the same.

Kise sighs somewhat dramatically. “I hope you gave him a good shove. Those two idiots need their nose pointed in the right direction sometimes. I mean I only know about Aominecchi, but I think he and Kagamicchi are much the same.” He scrunches his nose. “I’m not sure if I like the idea of two Aominecchis. Ah, I mean Kagamicchi is nice and really great, but Aominecchi is so mean sometimes…”

Tetsuya settles back against his tree and lets Kise’s voice wash over him. Kise’s voice tends to jump into annoying heights when he’s excited, but he can also hold a very pleasant cadence if he wants to. Enough to lull Tetsuya’s buzzing mind. And since Kise can be remarkably perceptive, he instantly recognized Tetsuya’s need for peace.

Night falls eventually.

They’d been sleeping at inns on their way back the nights before. The guards had shared rooms and both Akashi and Tetsuya had gotten one for themselves, but Kagami had invariably ended up in Tetsuya’s bed every night. He never made any sound when he dreamed, but somehow Kagami still knew when he had a nightmare. And unfamiliar beds always set his dreams off.

Kagami had made an effort to hide his presence in Tetsuya’s rooms, but the others must still have caught on at some point. No one ever said anything, but for their last night on their way, Kise suggested they camp outside.

It’s still the height of summer so it doesn’t really get cold. But with companions as fussy as his, he ends up with a disproportionate amount of blankets and predictably Kagami close to him. It’s the first night he sleeps through completely, blanketed by the stars above him and the constant choir of natural wildlife to remind him of the reality of his existence.


	16. A Garden of Silver and Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Today's fun fact:** Banana slugs sometimes chew each other's penis off after sex to prevent them from seeking other partners that could contest with their sperm. If one banana slug starts chewing off it's partner's penis, the other retaliates immediately. It is a double-edge sword.

The first time Tetsuya came to the Rakuzan capital he was confined behind the thin walls of a palanquin. Now he is sitting on the back of a horse, center piece to the triumphant return of Emperor Akashi Seijuro. They are met by Mibuchi and a group of palace guards at the city gate. The palace guards fall in formation around them and they make their way through the city.

A lot of people watch them on their way, but the atmosphere is rather friendly and some people wave or even cheer. It’s odd how little the procession disturbs the city life. No one falls to their knees or interrupts their business. People nod their head in respect and get on with their lives.

“There was a peasant revolt during the reign of the 18th Emperor.” Midorima explains, as though he has read Tetsuya’s mind. “Taxes were raised beyond reason to fund the foolish attempt to invade Cathay and Koryo. Among other things, Emperor Akashi Ryuichi forcefully drafted peasants into his war efforts, effectively crippling agriculture and economy, which resulted in a famine in the Northern parts of the Empire.

“Ah, it was quite bad wasn’t it?” Kise turns half in his horse to look at Midorima. “They almost chopped of the Emperor’s head.”

“Actually, the Emperor was forced to abdicate by a vote of no confidence. Well, it was actually the nobles banding together and deciding they would no longer follow him. He and his son were exiled and his nephew followed him on the throne.”

“Why is the Rakuzan’s history so complicated? It’s seriously annoying…” Murasakibara mutters. He’s in a bit of a bad mood, since he’d been forbidden from eating during their ride through the city.

No one answers him, but Tetsuya can see the rueful smile on Akashi’s lips. It’s small and only there for a short moment. Akashi has said little since their departure, but his face rarely ever betrays his emotions. He’s not complained once either, neither about the difficulties of riding with one hand, nor about what Tetsuya knows must be the itching pain of a healing neck wound. Complaining, of course isn’t a word Tetsuya would expect in Akashi’s vocabulary.

“Wasn’t the nephew later assassinated by the younger son? They’d spared him the exile, didn’t they?” Kise pipes up.

“Yeah and that’s exactly why you should execute the entire family of a traitor.” Aomine says with a dark grin.

Midorima rolls his eyes. “Even you should understand the asinine quality of that comment.”

“Just kidding.” Aomine affects his grin at Kagami, as though he’s awaiting praise.

Kagami groans, “You’re such an idiot Aomine.”

“Oh, come on.” Aomine makes to spur his horse into trotting next to Kagami’s but thinks better of it when he remembers where they are and that they are supposed to hold formation. “You know I’m great.” He calls instead.

Someone sighs rather loudly without hiding their exasperation.

“Welcome home.” Kise says with a cheerful smile, going back to waving happily at the people they pass.

Tetsuya catches Akashi’s gaze over the distance of too many rainbow colored heads. He mouths something. Tetsuya takes a moment to read the meaning from his lips. Somehow the words, silent as they are, make his heart thud faster in his chest.

 _Welcome home_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A lot of work expects them upon their return. Akashi barely has the time to dismount before he’s surrounded by servants with messages and he only has the time to wave Shintarou to follow him before he’s whisked away on important business.

It doesn’t take long for the rest of the party to break up either.

Tetsuya finds himself in the gardens about an hour later. He had made it to his room, only to find he couldn’t stand being in there for long. Everything has been cleaned obviously, but the memories can’t be removed that easily.

Ogiwara promises to organize him a new room as soon as possible. He does need a bit of consolation before that though, as he goes through excessive apologies for not having thought of this earlier himself. Tetsuya finds he has a special place in his heart for exuberant and over enthusiastic people, if Kise and Ogiwara are anything to go by. Even if Ogiwara can be quite a handful at times, Tetsuya is still glad to see him again.

His maids greet him warmly and after saying a quick hello to Nakajima - “about time you come back” - and Momoi who very nearly hug tackles him to the ground, he decides to spend the afternoon in the garden.

Everyone else, except Kagami is busy. Momoi had told him that Akashi didn’t expect him to do his court duties until everything was back to normal, which would take around two to three days on a rough estimate. Apparently Mayuzumi, who had been mostly in charge had had to leave abruptly to attend to a family matter, so things had gone a bit out of hand. It’s another thinly veiled attempt to coddle him and Tetsuya starts to tire of it.

But at least for today he is not going to complain.

Ayame has packed a small basket with food and snacks and Shion is laying out a blanket in the shadows of the Imperial cherry trees. Sumire went off with Ogiwara to oversee the preparation of his new rooms. Ogiwara had warned him that they would be smaller, as the Emperor’s and Queen’s chambers were traditionally the biggest rooms in the palace, but Tetsuya really doesn’t mind.

They settle down once the blanket has been lain out.

“You should go to the training grounds.” Tetsuya says to Kagami.

Kagami had followed him like a faithful dog all day. People had eyed him warily, but Kagami blithely ignored them. Even compared to the Imperial guard, Kagami still manages to stand out with his animal grace and instinct.

“Huh? But you said you beat them all. It’ll be boring.”

“Aomine might be there.” Tetsuya says and plucks a blade of grass. He presses it between his thumbs and blows a high pitched dissonant note. The truth is, he has no idea where Aomine is right now or if he even has the time to train, but he thinks Kagami is in dire need for some prompting in that direction.

Kagami who had perked up minutely at the mention of Aomine, quickly hides his excitement with a frown. “Are you still on that?”

“On what?” Tetsuya asks innocently. “I merely though Aomine might offer a worthwhile challenge.”

“Nah, not really.” He plucks the blade of grass from Tetsuya’s hands and throws it away with a reproachful glare. Tetsuya blinks up innocently at him. Kagami rolls his eyes and ruffles his hair affectionately, before plopping down backwards on the blanket.

Ayame starts to unpack the basket. Shion excuses herself moments later to take care of some urgent business. Ayame follows not much later, leaving the two of them alone.

Kagami, who had been constantly on edge in the presence of strangers, visibly relaxes. It’s not that he dislikes others, but he’s fixated right now on protecting Tetsuya. Every stranger is an unknown factor.

Tetsuya has found a closed container that contains a creamy liquid with an enchanting scent. Further inspection reveals it to be some sort of vanilla flavored drink. It’s refreshingly cold and there are chunks of ice floating in it. Tetsuya wonders to what great efforts the kitchen went just to prepare this. He makes a mental note to thank Kaede later.

”He’s not bad, though.” Kagami says after a while.

Tetsuya hums noncommittally. It’s best to let Kagami work through his thoughts in moments like this.

Kagami reaches for a slice of cold meat. Even while munching, his expression is uncharacteristically thoughtful. Tetsuya helps himself to a slice of apple.

“I know this is an odd thing for me to notice. But when, ah, when they held me at sword point, he and Kise. Kise’s hand was unsteady. He cut me.” Kagami points to a spot on his neck. If he strains his eyes, Tetsuya can make out a tiny white line there, noticeable only because Kagami’s susceptibility for a tan. “But Aomine’s hand was steady. I mean, he was upset obviously and he couldn’t look at me straight, but he wavered not once. It’s like he has this instinct for battle. And it’s like, when we fight, I don’t have to hold back. And if I end up knocking him right out, he doesn’t care. He gets up after and needles me to teach me how I did it.”

Tetsuya hums again. He doesn’t say how Aomine told him almost the exact same thing about Kagami the day before.

“He’ll never be as awesome as you obviously.” Kagami sits up to check the basket for more meat. There is no more meat. Kagami scrunches his eye brows - always an impressive sight - and tries to find something else. “And I can’t really forgive him, so it really doesn’t matter what I think of him. It’s just nice to have someone to go up against.” He settles on a piece of bread that was meant to go with the meat.

Tetsuya stops slurping his creamy treat. Kagami has lain back down on his back. His eyes are half closed from the glare of the sun that reaches through the foliage. He picks off pieces of the bread and stuffs them in his mouth, for once not inhaling his food at a rapid pace.

Even without looking at his face directly, Tetsuya can read Kagami. At this point his near-brother is as open to him as a well read book, one he can recite lines from by heart. And currently Kagami is quite effectively lying to himself and more than that, he is not just oblivious to it, but also feels secure in the knowledge he is doing what he has to do to look out for Tetsuya.

Tetsuya feels the urge to express his frustration with a sigh.

The thing is, Kagami isn’t wrong. He’s just not right either.

“Now I want to punch that bastard,” Kagami mutters. He picks up the rest of the bread, breaks off a small part to give to Tetsuya and stuffs the rest in his mouth. “But I kind of can’t stay mad at him.”

Tetsuya stares at the sky. There’s not a single cloud in sky. Breathtaking blue, from horizon to horizon. A bird sails overhead. He follows it with his eyes until it disappears in the distance. He could be that bird. There is nothing that binds him to Akashi Seijuro. Akashi would lay their wedding vows at his feet if he asked. He would have offered his life if Tetsuya had let him. Tetsuya could walk away and never look back.

“We’re not good people, aren’t we?” Kagami says into the lasting silence.

Tetsuya blinks. He has the denial on his lips, thinking of Kagami’s bright and innocent nature, but that same image is superimposed with another, more sinister image. Kagami _is_ bright, but he also has hands stained in blood. He wouldn’t appreciate if Tetsuya discredited that fact.

“We had no choice.“ Tetsuya says, even though he knows it’s a lie.

“There’s always a choice.” Kagami replies bluntly.

“But we couldn’t live with the consequences of the wrong choice.” Tetsuya says evenly. “Life rarely offers you simple solutions. You have to pick the choice that you can live with as opposed to the one you can’t. There is no right or wrong. Only consequences. If you can’t live with the consequences, you’ve made the wrong choice.”

“That doesn’t make us good people.” Kagami says solemnly.

“No. We’re not good people. But we’re not bad either. At least, you aren’t.”

“I killed more than you-“

“Kagami-kun has a heart. I can’t absolve you of killing, but I can tell you this. Your nightmares, I know you have them, although you try to hide them. You dream of your victims, do you not?”

“Yeah, usually.” Kagami’s expression is uneasy, but Tetsuya goes ahead anyway.

“I only ever dream of my own pain.”

Kagami is quick to rise to his defense. “That’s natural given your experiences.”

Tetsuya’s smile is sad. There is still no cloud overhead, but he feels like the sun had vanished behind a shadow. “I made a choice. There are nights when I can’t tell if it was the right choice - if the consequences are worth it. Sometimes there are even days when I doubt. Yet I killed people whose face I can no longer recall. I never paid attention, because it didn’t matter. There’s no space in my heart for pitying strangers.”

_And yet._

Kagami falls silent, undoubtedly working over what Tetsuya has said.

Tetsuya wonders about the point of all this. He had learned early on that moral code wasn’t something fixed. Naomi may have suffered from having to kill her daughter, she may have even regretted it, but in the end she didn’t waver. She made a choice she defended until her death. Killing one for the beneficial of a whole clan, how could that be wrong?

Because it felt wrong and because Tetsuya had lain on the other side of that blade and thought that moment that the whole clan could go to hell, if only his life was spared.

Taking up the weapon Aida offered had been natural. Once he had learned the skills to do so, using them - even to kill - had been natural. The darkness inside of him may have played a part, but it could have never festered the way it did, had Tetsuya not let it.

“You’re wrong.” Kagami says finally. He turns his head to the side to look at Tetsuya. “You may be right about us not being good people, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. Your brother was a bad person. You and he are not the same. I refuse to believe you are.”

Kagami reaches out and flicks a finger against his forehead, softly as he doesn’t want to inflict any pain. “Making the wrong choice doesn’t make you bad. Feeling no regret over things you have no control over also doesn’t make you bad.” Tetsuya wants to reply, but Kagami stops him with a shake of his head. “I don’t believe in Gods. Not if they would ask for a five year old’s blood. But I know with absolute certainty that when you get all cold and icy, that’s not you. Part of you maybe, but not you. And you saved us, didn’t you? You did it all for Shizuka and now she’s safe. She can grow up and take over when she’s old enough. And you didn’t kill your brother, even when you had the chance to. You put my life over his. I will never forget that.”

Kagami has gotten up to better look at him. His frame blocks out the sun, but Tetsuya feels safe in his shadow. He also feels humbled.

“You saved us.” Kagami repeats. “And even if you didn’t, I would still forgive you. You made the choice you thought was the best, and you’ve never ran away from the consequences.”

Tetsuya swallows. _I’m here_ , he wants to say, _where I shouldn’t be. But I am selfish._ He can’t find the words.

“If we’d measure action without intent, we would condemn half the world. The same goes for measuring intent without action. I don’t regret for a second that I’ve met you. I’m proud that I can call you brother.”

Tetsuya gives in to the pull and allows himself to fall into Kagami’s chest. Kagami catches him and hugs him tight. They remain like that for a moment, it’s too hot to stay longer, but afterwards Tetsuya feels lighter, even if just a little.

“Thank you.” He says earnestly once they’ve separated.

Kagami flushes faintly and looks away. “Don’t tell Aomine.” He mutters.

Tetsuya is still a bit shaken, but the exchange has thrown him back on track rather effectively. He cocks an eyebrow, but chooses not to inquire why Kagami brought up Aomine now of all moments. He needs to figure it out for himself.

Tetsuya lies back into the grass and stares up at the sky. A tuft of clouds sails by, too small and too scattered to cast a lasting shadow. Summer in the capital seems never ending.

He thinks over what Kagami has said again. It’s not that simple of course, but maybe he’s allowed to be selfish just this once. Maybe the pain he’s been through is enough to pay for some of his happiness. Even if it’s just a little.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They return inside about an hour before sunset. The palace is in quite a buzz, servants rushing every which way and apparently Akashi has ordered an impromptu gathering of the entire court for tomorrow. Ogiwara explains he’s welcome but free to stay away if he chooses. Tetsuya thinks of being mad for a moment, before he recognizes the offer for what it is. Akashi leaves it to him to decide if he wants to continue his court work, or if he’d rather stay away. Whatever he chooses, Akashi will accept it.

They take dinner in the West wing kitchen. None of the Imperial guards are there this time, as they are all busy one way or another. Ogiwara tags along, unusually quiet. Judging by the sideways glances he throws Kagami, his presence intimidates him.

Kagami goes off to fetch them food. Ogiwara visibly exhales.

“I, uh, I don’t want to sound disrespectful, but those eyebrows.” Ogiwara draws his fingers over his own eyebrows. “Are they real?”

Tetsuya inclines his head. This is one unexpected turn of conversaion. “Yes.”

Ogiwara sits back, clearly impressed. “Can you… or could you tell me if he would be mad if I…” He makes a somewhat aimless gesture with his hand. “Could I ask him how he does it?”

“You want forked eyebrows?” Tetsuya asks and it takes more than it should to keep a straight face.

Ogiwara nods excitedly.

“I’m afraid they just grew like that naturally.”

“Oh.” Ogiwara’s face falls. “They add character.” He offers with a small shrug. He looks rather dejected.

Tetsuya evaluates his attendant for a moment. He knows barely anything about him. Ogiwara is always cheerful, diligent but somewhat chaotic at times. He’s not the most structured person, but he manages to keep Tetsuya’s schedule organized. He’s affable though and has a nice character underneath his scatterbrain, but so far Tetsuya has yet to see him spend time with someone else but him.

“I think Ogiwara-kun’s eyebrows offer enough character.” Tetsuya says with a small smile.

Ogiwara scrunches said eyebrows in a disbelieving frown. “Really? I always thought they were rather bland.”

Tetsuya shakes his head. He doesn’t really know what he can say. The issue seems to reach deeper than eyebrow-related insecurities, but he doesn’t know Ogiwara all that well really. A shame, considering how close they work together. But he has the time and leisure now to remedy that, hasn’t he?

Kagami comes back with two trays balanced in his arms, both piled high with food. Ogiwara stares on, baffled. “Do we expect company?”

Kagami pauses and looks at Ogiwara with confusion. “No, why would we?” He looks to Tetsuya. “We don’t, do we? I could go back and fetch some more if we did.”

Tetsuya shakes his head and picks the plate that has the least bit food on it from Kagami’s tray. “Ogiwara-kun is simply not familiar with your eating habits.” Tetsuya says before turning to Ogiwara, “This is Kagami’s normal intake of food. I think he is still growing.”

“Am not.” Kagami says with a mouth full of food. “Although I wouldn’t mind a few more centimeters.” He adds after swallowing. Almost like an afterthought he hands Ogiwara another plate, stacked higher with food than Tetsuya’s. Ogiwara accepts it with a smile.

“I wish he would stop doing that.” Tetsuya confides to Ogiwara, ignoring Kagami. “He’s already too tall, but he just doesn’t stop growing.”

Ogiwara’s expression is tentative at first, but after Kagami pulls Tetsuya in a headlock, mouth full again and wildly complaining about Tetsuya’s ‘smart mouth’, he finally starts laughing.

Kagami pauses in his current attempt at decreasing Tetsuya’s size through brute force to look at him. Ogiwara’s laugh is loud and infecting. He never seemed the type to put a lid on his emotions. It’s refreshing in a way. Tetsuya’s spent so much time around people guarding their emotions, Ogiwara’s openness is a nice change of pace.

“Sorry about that. I just thought how hilarious it would be if Akashi-sama walked in on you giving his highness a noogie. Or anyone for that matter.” He shakes his head and has to suppress another fit of laughter.

Kagami grins. “I’d be happy to provide them all with a taste.”

“I wish he were joking.” Tetsuya adds dryly. Kagami punches him playfully in the shoulder. Tetsuya retaliates by jabbing his fingers between Kagami’s ribs, making him wheeze with pain. It’s been a while since the last time they did that. Ever since his wedding night Kagami has treaded rather carefully around him, outside of training.

Ogiwara looks between the two of them. “You are really good friends.” He states with something akin to wonder in his voice.

“Yes, we are.” Tetsuya confirms with a small smile. Kagami mutters something unintelligible and goes back to stuffing his face. The picnic barely made a dent in his appetite.

Ogiwara’s grin is bright and happy. He nods once, before finally starting on his own food.

“Oh right, I almost forgot.” Kagami pulls a cream puff from his pile of food and puts it on the edge of Tetsuya’s plate. “The cook gave me this for you. She said you need the extra sustenance.”

“That’s nice.” Ogiwara smiles. “Kaede’s cream puffs are delicious.”

“They are.” Tetsuya agrees, already thinking of how he can break the puff into three parts. They _are_ delicious, but he can’t finish one on his own. Maybe he should make quarters out of it, but who should get the last part? Way too many people come to mind. This is what Tetsuya supposes to be the luxury of having privileged problems. How to split a cream puff evenly into thirds.

How far he’s come. He wouldn’t have believed it, only a few months back, that he would waste serious effort over an inconsequential problem like this. He’d never expected to have the leisure for that.

It’s been days, but now that he’s back, it finally settles in. He doesn’t have to be on edge anymore, doesn’t have to work his way into Akashi’s graces and hope he’ll make it on time. Doesn’t have to take everything that comes his way because he can’t afford to risk losing his support. He can afford worrying about a stupid cream puff and how he’s going to split it evenly so everyone gets a part of the same size. He feels like crying,

In the end, the cream puff is shared between Kagami an Ogiwara, with both of them offering Kuroko a small portion. It’s not an even split, but everyone is satisfied.

It’s as much as Kuroko can ask for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His new room is nestled in the corner of the far side of the West wing, same floor as his old chambers, but much smaller. It’s just one room, with a bathtub hidden away behind a curtain on one side. The bed is barely half the size of his old one. There is a desk with a chair, a small sofa with plush pillows, a lonely bookshelf and an armoire.

Ayame apologizes profusely. She explains that the retirement rooms of the old King - Akashi’s father - are in disastrous condition and that it will take a few days to prepare them. Tetsuya realizes that this is a huge step down and likely also an insult to his status, but he doesn’t mind. He never liked his old rooms; they were too spacious, too impersonal.

This one has the aura of a room that has actually been lived in. Ayame assures him that the previous occupant has moved out long before Tetsuya laid claim to the room.

Kagami ends up with a futon on the floor, as he refuses to sleep anywhere else but where Tetsuya is.

An Imperial courier awaits him with a personal message from Akashi after dinner. Ayame has made herself scarce after being reassured that the room is truly alright and Ogiwara has excused himself to retire.

The message is written on a sheet of expensive white paper. Tetsuya waits until the messenger has left before unfolding it. It’s handwritten, neat script with little flourish. Akashi excuses his absence during the day, expressing his desire to spend more time with Tetsuya. At the end there is a reiteration of the offer to participate in court meetings at his own behest. It is rather formal and somewhat stiff, but Tetsuya finds himself tracing the words with his fingers all the same.

Kagami watches him quizzically, but doesn’t ask.

Tetsuya folds the sheet back into its envelope and places it on the top shelf of his bookshelf. Akashi is, for a lack of a better word, awkward. Tetsuya thinks it’s an effort at courting him, and despite less than stellar execution, his heart flutters at the thought.

Akashi has offered to have dinner with him soon, if and whenever Tetsuya wants and part of him feels the urge to laugh at the sudden tentativeness. Akashi used to command him with little regard to his own intentions. Now, he seems so carefully aware of his needs and wants.

Still, there is a conversation they need to have soon. Tetsuya wants to establish boundaries before they can endeavor into whatever this is that is blooming between them. And Akashi needs to understand that this is a rare chance he’s been given, Tetsuya may be in love, but he is not willing to compromise his wellbeing. Not when he finally has the luxury of freedom.

It doesn’t stop his longing though.

Tetsuya rifles through the drawers of his new desk in search for paper or anything to write on. He finds an old quill and a small vial of dried out ink. There are some old leathery pieces of parchment, but nothing that will do him any good without a pen.

Kagami sits sprawled out on the sofa. He watches with lazy curiosity as Tetsuya ponders his response.

“I want to stay.” He says with little preamble.

Tetsuya halts his efforts to look at him. “I know, but-“

“Shizuka, I know.” Kagami waves his comment away. “It’s not that I want to leave her. But it’s also not like I’m the only person who can take care of her. You know Kiyoshi adores her.”

Tetsuya tilts his head. Convincing Kagami to stay behind for Shizuka was an effort to alleviate his own guilt at leaving her. That much he can admit.

“Besides, she would be pretty mad if she knew I’d left you alone.”

Tetsuya looks away. Shizuka had been brave upon their departure. She had understood that this was something he had to do. So she had bid him goodbye while furiously biting back her tears. She hadn’t complained.

It’s okay to be selfish, that much he had accepted. But he can’t be selfish and deny Kagami his own desires.

“Alright, I will talk to Akashi. It should be no problem to get you a room of your own.” Tetsuya says eventually.

Kagami blinks at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to give in that easily. Or at all.”

“Well, I expect you to visit Teikou frequently and carry my messages.”

“I guess that is reasonable.” Kagami yawns once and rolls on his side. “Wake me when you’re going to bed.” He mumbles into the back of the sofa. “I’ll move then.”

Tetsuya allows himself a small smile. Kagami has developed the skill to sleep in just about any kind of situation or position. Combined with the ability to be wide awake instantly, it is quite useful.

Tetsuya eventually locates a graphite pencil meant for sketching. Its tip is rather blunt, but it will do. Thankfully the parchment is rather sturdy and withstands the pressure of the pen. Tetsuya only writes that he is willing to have dinner with Akashi, as everything else needs to be discussed in person. He leaves it to Akashi’s convenience as his schedule is more likely to be filled. He then folds the parchment once and realizes belatedly that he doesn’t exactly have the means to deliver it. He could bring it to Akashi’s rooms, but that would be rather awkward. Not to mention pointless if the man isn’t there.

The whole thing is rather silly.

Just as he’s about to move out to see if he can find a courier or even a servant, there is a small knock on his door. Kagami doesn’t even move an eyelash.

Outside, Shion stands with a wicker basket full of clothes and linen, piled high enough to almost smother her. She curtseys once and then makes her way inside to stock the armoire. She stops short when she sees the sleeping Kagami. Shion carefully puts down the basket. She hesitates a moment, giving Kagami another glance. “I would like to speak with you, Kuroko-sama.” She then whispers, hands clasped in front of her.

Tetsuya evaluates her. He can count the words Shion has spoken in his presence with confident ease. She looks worried and tense. Tetsuya gestures for her to speak. She looks at Kagami, clearly unsure.

“He won’t wake.” Tetsuya says in normal volume. And even if he did, Tetsuya trusts Kagami with his life.

Shion’s smile is tense. “Apologies Kuroko-sama, but there is a matter I need to bring to your attention.” She seems on edge, but it seems to stem from worry rather than nervousness. “Kuroko-sama’s clothes have fallen victim to a rather vicious attack, during his absence. Unfortunately I don’t know who was responsible, but most clothes have been damaged beyond repair. I have made an effort to replace everything, but it will take time.” Shion frowns. “It is not my intention to raise paranoid suspicion, but whoever is responsible may have more sinister intentions.”

“The needle.” Kuroko says.

If Shion is surprised, she doesn’t show it. “I believe so. The attacks have grown more vicious, but I have yet to determine the source. If there is anything else Kuroko-sama has noticed, I would appreciate the pointer.”

“There was too much salt in my food at more than one occasion. I noticed strings torn on some of my clothes. I don’t know if all these events attribute to the same culprit. They may have been accidents.”

“Caution would be advisable nevertheless.”

“Of course.” Tetsuya looks at the peacefully sleeping Kagami. It would have been nice to have some peace. Maybe it just isn’t supposed to be.

“Please be careful.” Shion says. “I will keep an eye out.” She bows and turns to sort the clothes into the armoire.

Tetsuya makes space next to the sleeping Kagami and sits down on the sofa. He could have picked the chair, but he felt like sharing warmth. Someone is bullying him - harmless so far - but whoever the culprit is, they might have more sinister intentions altogether.

It seems so small and inconsequential compared to what he’s been through. But he can’t afford to lower his guard. Tetsuya rubs his eyes. His body has yet to fully recover and he tends to tire too easily.

Does it ever end?

“Would you do me a favor, Shion-san?”

Shion nods without hesitation.

“Would you deliver this to Akashi?”

She nods again. Tetsuya hands her the folded strip of parchment. It feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off him.

Does he ever want it to end?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We found traces of burned books in his fireplace. Along with _this_.” Shintarou puts bits of burned paper on the table, and next to it he places a piece of red fabric, singed at the edges. “Other than that, there were no traces in the room.”

Seijuro looks at the offered pieces, after gesturing for Shintarou to sit down. Reo and Shouichi are already seated. He will have to have a similar meeting with the rest of his guards, but for now he handpicked these three as both unlikely suspects, as well as loyal and competent counselors.

Chihiro’s absence is more than a bit suspicious. Granted, he knows little about Chihiro’s family, but familial matters or not, Chihiro would never simply leave like that. He’s not sloppy enough to leave compromising evidence, although it would be unwise to ignore the presented facts as a whole.

“How likely is it to be a setup?” He asks, more to prompt them into thinking than to actually ask for validation.

“About fifty, fifty I daresay.” Shouichi says. “It’s not like Mayuzumi-kun to leave traces, but he could have been in a hurry. Although, I wouldn’t know why. If anything, your presence should have spooked him, not your absence.”

“He does have a reason to hate you, though.” Reo supplies with a wry smile. “The timing remains odd. And unprovoked.”

“You are the one who knows him best.” Shintarou reminds him, “You are best suited to tell us if it is a setup.”

“Does Mayuzumi-kun even have family?” Shouichi inquires.

“He does.” Seijuro says. “I investigated, obviously.” He adds unnecessarily. But lately he has found the need to explain himself more often. “I will have someone sent to determine their state, but I don’t expect to find him there.”

“So he did betray you?”

“No.” Seijuro interlaces his fingers. “There is still something he wants from me, until then he wouldn’t leave my side.” Not to mention that of all the evidence Chihiro may leave behind for whatever reason, a red banner wouldn’t be among them.

“In any case, burned books and red fabric are not much proof to go on.” Shouichi surmises. “Which means someone wants us on a goose chase? Although I agree. It is likely not Mayuzumi-kun himself. He lacks… well not patience but rather the endurance to endeavor on such an arduous task. He is more direct I reckon.”

“But where is he?” Reo asks. No one answers him.

Shintarou picks up the piece of red fabric. “It is rather arbitrary. We haven’t heard anything in years.”

“It is arbitrary, yet too pointed. Red fabric isn’t even the issue, but since it’s burned and left behind so obviously, we do have a responsibility to look into it.” Shouichi sighs. “It would be nice if Mayuzumi-kun were just on a bit of a family outing. Whoever set this up was either an idiot or didn’t know anything about Mayuzumi-kun. Well, considering the man in question I’d reckon the latter.”

“Likely,” Seijuro agrees, “but I wouldn’t count on it just yet. The approach is rather peculiar. It appears that the one responsible was at least aware of some of Chihiro’s predilections. What the culprit doesn’t know might just be as telling as what he knows.” It also just might be a smoke screen to hide a trap.

Not everyone would think to use this approach. The red banner had been used during the civil war, when the Saitou domain cut their ties with the religious doctrine the Rakuzan perpetuated at the time. The Emperor hadn’t accepted the act of blasphemy and attacked the domain. The Saitou had been ridden of their status and excommunicated, after essentially losing the war. Later Emperors had reinstated their noble status, but they never managed to rise to former glory. Their domain had been distributed among their neighbors. Today they only retain a small section of land. They red banner had become stigmatized and synonymous with rebellion and the Saitou had discontinued its use.

The peasant uprising had used banners of red, although without the Saitou’s crest.

“Could it be plan B?” Reo asks after a while of pensive silence. “I mean his first attempt didn’t work out so he figured he’d sit low for a while, ingratiate himself with you and then strike?”

“That is way too convoluted and not to mention ridiculous.” Shintarou shoots him down immediately. “He wouldn’t wait for five years only to skip so suddenly.”

“Maybe he realized he really likes Sei-chan.” Reo is unperturbed by Shintarou’s rebuke.

Seijuro shakes his head. “It doesn’t make sense. It’s too sloppy. Someone wants to draw our attention, but for what purpose?”

“Surprise attack?” Shouichi offers half-heartedly.

“Or maybe they are just stupid. Wouldn’t be the first badly planned attempt on Sei-chan’s life.”

“In any case, we should be careful as to our next step. This could be anything from trap to diversion.” Shintarou rubs the bridge of his nose. Seijuro can relate.

“Motives aside, who could be behind it?” Shouichi asks. “If we were to assume it isn’t Mayuzumi-kun skipping out.” He amends after a moment.

“At this point, we can’t pinpoint the culprit. The facts we are presented with - or rather the conclusion the facts seem to invite - leave a rather wide grid of probability. The culprit must know about the significance of the red banner, along with the coinciding law.” He affects a hard stare at his counselors. “The information is accessible to the public, however. “

“Not everyone would seek to acquire it.”

“No, but we have little means to determine who did. As such, it _is_ likely however that the culprit possessed prior knowledge. I assume it to be a member of the court. Simply, by proximity.”

“That’s right. Whoever it was would need to access Mayuzumi’s rooms.”

“There is not much we can do as of now.” Seijuro concludes. “We need further evidence. Shintarou, if you would incur a further search into Chihiro’s rooms. If this is indeed the onset of a trap I suspect there will be additional evidence that leads us to the next step.”

“What if it’s all coincidence? Maybe he burned off his sleeve while trying to get rid of some lousy poetry?” Reo injects just as Shintarou is about to stand up.

“Then we won’t find any additional evidence and Chihiro will return in a few days.” Seijuro says evenly. “Until then there is no harm in investigating further. We might not want this to leak however.”

“And by further investigating you mean?” Shouichi asks, sharp as ever.

“If there is indeed a trap waiting…” Seijuro allows himself a cold smile, “Well, there is only one way to find out.”

“I already don’t like this.” Reo says with a sigh.

“You won’t like anything of what is coming.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Koryo = Korea  
> And a big thank you to all of you and your continued support. It means a lot to me.


	17. Purple Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Today's fun fact:** Now it gets compliacted. Helix pomatia (or escargot as the french gourmet would say) has a rather interesting solution to ensure the strongest possible offspring. When the spermatophores get inserted into one snail, they are received in a special tract at whose end a small compartment containing proteases (i.e. the stuff that breaks down proteins, therefore destroying the sperm cell) awaits. To escape this fate the sperm cells have to actively swim out of the tract and enter the female tract, where fertilization can take place. This ensures that only 'fit' spermatophores reach their destination and get a chance to fertilize the egg cells.

Honesty had never been a stranger to Seijuro, but he had always offered it with the brutal bluntness of absolute power. Offering one’s innermost secrets to someone in the intimacy of their shared feelings is a totally different sort of honesty.

He won’t let that stop him.

The day has been rather turbulent. Chihiro’s abrupt departure has left quite a few issues in shambles. Small things mostly, but with the suspicions surrounding his absence, Seijuro has to be extra careful. And as he had suspected, underneath the expected chaos, were very carefully placed detriments. An unauthorized tax raise in one of the easily unsettled Southern provinces, misplaced files and documents to important cases, month old complaints from provincial lords that show up now of all times. Among other things.

He’s worried, but at least for tonight Seijuro puts everything that doesn’t concern the immediate situation into a corner of his mind. It doesn’t help that he’s always so tired now, but this is a conversation that is important and should not wait much longer.

Kuroko looks radiant. He’s dressed in a furisode and clearly embarrassed about it. But Seijuro doesn’t think he’s ever seen something this beautiful.

“Ah, my maids insisted on dressing me up.” Kuroko looks away, fidgeting with his hands. The furisode has a black base with pink flowers scattered on top. It’s a rather uncharacteristic choice for Kuroko, but one that fits him well. Seijuro himself had debated quite a while what outfit he should pick. He wants to make an impression; it had caused quite the amusement when he’d realized his efforts were much like a bird out to attract a mate. In the end he had gone for simple. Kuroko wouldn’t be blinded by a fancy getup anyway. At least Shuzo had finally taken of the wrappings from his fingers, stiff as they still are, he no longer feels like he’s fumbling constantly.

“It suits you well.” Seijuro says softly. Kuroko’s eyes dart to him and then away, the faint blush is barely noticeable, even against Kuroko’s pale complexion.

He hadn’t expected a quick answer - or even any answer - to the note he had sent Kuroko. It was humbling in a way he had never known. When the maid, Shion, had brought him the scraggly bit of folded parchment, his heart had started beating faster with an unfamiliar emotion. The message could have held a rejection. He had never before in his life been this scared of a simple piece of parchment.

“Thank you.” Kuroko says with a graceful nod. He follows Seijuro to the table, where their food awaits, placed under cloches to keep them warm. Seijuro waits until Kuroko has taken his seat, before sitting down himself.

He’s indescribably nervous.

“Akashi-kun.” Kuroko addresses him after a while of awkward silence. Seijuro meets his eyes for the first time that evening. For a moment it seems the floor has been pulled from under his feet as he loses himself in sky blue depths. When he resurfaces he realizes that the nervous flutter of his heart has calmed into a steady assured beating.

Kuroko’s lips are quirked into the faintest of smiles.

“How about we eat and then talk?” He offers. Kuroko’s answer is a slight tilt of his head and a smile that’s so radiant, despite being restricted to his eyes. But maybe that is all in Seijuro’s head.

He loves Kuroko Tetsuya. There is no doubt about that. And the other him, that dark side that had overtaken his mind for so long, even that irreconcilable part of him, shares in that feeling.

To have Tetsuya reciprocate - the way their second kiss implies - it would make him unbelievably happy. But before that, he has yet to make amends for his sins. Even if it means his feelings never come to fruition, as long as Tetsuya is safe, it will be enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner is accompanied by some idle small talk. Akashi inquires after his day and how well Kagami is adjusting to his new home. Asks if he likes his new room and apologizes again for the rudimentary nature of his current dwelling. He skirts by dangerous territory with the last question, but as he had offered before, _real_ talk is reserved for after dinner.

Tetsuya expresses his desires to rejoin his court duties and finds Akashi’s eyes oddly alight from the proposal. They spend the rest of the meal talking about small things that need to be done, Akashi updates him on the current situation and then dinner is already over.

Akashi summons a servant to clear the table and to order them something for dessert.

They end up sitting on Akashi’s couch, awkwardly placed apart, but the silence doesn’t last long.

“I would like to offer an apology.” Akashi’s eyes are calm, but with a faint edge of nerves underneath. “But first I have something to tell, or rather explain to you.” Akashi’s smile is rueful. “In exchange I would like to ask for your story. But it is up to you, if you comply.”

Tetsuya is confused for a moment, until he remembers that he never told Akashi the truth of it all. He had somewhat assumed his guards would do it.

“It’s your story.” Akashi offers solemnly, “no one else has the right to share it.” As though he had heard his thoughts.

“This is in no means an excuse, but I feel you deserve to understand something about me. I always had a side to me that is… rather dark.” Akashi entwines his hands; it seems mostly to still their incessant moving. “As you know my mother died when I was still a child. The circumstances of her death have been difficult and my father has been strict with me ever since. He instilled the unwavering belief in victory in me.

“As it was, victory was everything.” Akashi pauses for a moment, eyes drawn to an unfathomable distance. “Father died when I was barely of age. He had left things in stable conditions, but I was young. And I knew so little. I had to find a way to secure victory - superiority - at all costs. So in the end I listened to the voice inside of me.”

Akashi raises a hand and puts his pointer and middle finger below his left eye. The bones his brother had broken have healed well, but Tetsuya can still see the stiffness in his motions. “It awakened a power in my eyes. Using it allowed me to see through everything, truth, lies, even the future at times. But it also chipped away at my soul.

“I allowed it to happen, because it served my needs. Nothing could stand in my way as long as I had the power of my eye. But then…” Akashi looks away. He drops his hand and gently rubs at the joints of his newly healed fingers. Like a reminder of what he’d endured.

Tetsuya does not need the reminder. He had seen the change for himself. And he knows what caused it.

“I lost.” Akashi says with something akin to marvel. He touches his eye again. “I couldn’t hold on to it any longer. Or maybe it didn’t want to stay, after it had…” Akashi swallows, “lost you.”

There is a moment of silence between them. Tetsuya remembers. Akashi does too.

“I can still feel fractions of it. Of _him_. It tugs at my mind sometimes, beckoning me, but all I ever see when I _look_ is your face.” He doesn’t elaborate. Tetsuya doesn’t need him to.

He has a scar now that is a perfect mirror to Tetsuya’s. There is so much they share now, scars and shadows and a painful history. Tetsuya wouldn’t be here if there weren’t something else he wants to share.

“I can’t ask for your forgiveness. I can try to make amends. I will.” Akashi moves closer, slowly and watches Tetsuya for a reaction. He gives none. Akashi’s hand is cool, but Tetsuya can feel the minute trembling, nerves suppressed almost completely.

Akashi cups his hands and lifts them to his mouth. “I’m sorry.” He whispers and presses a kiss to Tetsuya’s knuckles. “I-“

“Don’t.” Tetsuya speaks past the lump in his throat. He pulls back his hands and Akashi releases him without a fight. “Don’t apologize. If you do, I can’t…” Tetsuya’s breath is running ragged, but he can’t seem to calm down.

“Tetsuya.” Akashi calls his name, urgently and Tetsuya clings to the sound. He forces a breath and then another and eventually his heart calms down and his mind clears.

“Don’t apologize.” Tetsuya repeats. He reaches out to take Akashi’s hand into his. “It was my choice to let it happen. I could have stopped you, but I didn’t.” He can’t say more. Tetsuya can’t afford to think in that direction. The pain is just so bearable when he can allow himself to think it was his decision. His will.

He can’t say it out loud so he wills Akashi to understand. Their hands are pressed together, and if he could, he would convey everything - not everything, _never_ everything, not when there is so much d _arkness_ in his own heart - he feels through his fingers.

At least then he wouldn’t have to taste the bitter bile of memories on his tongue.

Akashi’s grasp tightens slightly, reassurance or maybe he just needs to hold on to something as well. Maybe he does understand.

“It’s alright.” Akashi’s voice is assured, only the tremble in his fingertips betrays his feelings. “I understand.”

He does.

It’s not alright, he wants to say. He knows it’s not. But it has to be, or else he will crumble at the edges, where his _conviction_ so barely holds him together. It’s a thin line. Tetsuya pulls himself together with the burning flame of red that is Akashi’s eyes.

It’s also a fragile line.

Tetsuya drowns his thoughts in the feeling of Akashi’s warmth. Lips on his that speak of promises he can never hear in daylight. Akashi hesitates for the barest of moments. He knows the fault in their approach. He does nothing to fix it.

Akashi cards his hands through Tetsuya’s hair, upsetting the pin-induced order his maids have tried to instill. For all the times Kagami had ruffled his hair, it never sent waves of rippling pleasure through his body like it does now. Tetsuya’s own hands are greedy, wanting, as he tries to bring them closer.

The heat of their bodies is a familiar thing tainted with foul memories.

Akashi’s exhale against his skin is not.

He had seen the end of his red nightmares. Now he can lose himself in the color and let it chase away the fleeting edges of grey.

They’ve conquered the space between them on the sofa. Tetsuya’s draped half over Akashi’s lap in an effort to get closer and Akashi’s body has fallen open to let him in with such welcome ease.

“Tetsuya.” Akashi mouths against his pulse. His touch is warm and gentle, cradling. His movements are a mirror of each of Tetsuya’s. He doesn’t reach for new territory until Tetsuya does. He doesn’t deepen their kiss until Tetsuya implies he wants to. His lips return soft and hesitant against his neck until Tetsuya bodily urges him on.

Akashi places a first tentative kiss on Tetsuya’s neck, a press so soft it barely registers as more than a brush. His fingers are splayed on Tetsuya’s shoulder blades, moving faintly to rub over the soft fabric of his furisode, but all his focus is concentrated on his mouth.

Tetsuya lets his head fall back, presenting his neck in open invitation to Akashi. His fingers, with a mind of their own, find their way to Akashi’s neck, where a faintly raised line mirrors the scar on his own neck. Akashi sighs once, like he is letting go of something heavy, before pressing his face into the space Tetsuya offers. His lips follow a straight line, the scar that mars his neck. And for a moment it’s all they do. Connecting to each other’s marks and remembering how close they’ve come to death.

They kiss again after, hungry and intent, as if to reassure each other that they’re still alive.

Tetsuya’s body is hot, igniting with how much he wants to consume Akashi. It’s a line he has yet to find the will to cross.

Akashi stops the moment Tetsuya presses his hands against his chest. He seems to immediately understand that it’s not a rejection, merely an attempt to regain some space.

“Akashi-kun has yet to re-earn my trust.” Tetsuya breathes, sensations still fluttering through his body.

Akashi smiles. “All the time you need.” He says in reply. An oddly faraway look crosses his eyes for a moment, but then he settles back on Tetsuya, soft and _loving_. “May I call you Tetsuya?”

The prompt sparks a surprised laughter from him. It’s short and quiet, but it feels so natural and just right, here in the space between them. “You already do.”

“I am aware. But I suppose a formal request may be in order. I will call you Kuroko, if that is what you prefer.” Akashi’s tone is lightly teasing but ultimately warm. He has moved away with his upper body to give Tetsuya his space, but his legs are still pressed close. And Tetsuya wouldn’t want him to go away.

“You may call me by my given name.” Tetsuya allows with an air of gravity.

“Does that mean you will call me Seijuro?”

“Absolutely not.”

Akashi laughs quietly. “Do I have to earn that privilege too?”

Tetsuya tilts his head. “Akashi-kun will know when the time comes.” He says.

Akashi’s expression is thoughtful, but eventually he nods his understanding. Tetsuya braces himself for what comes next. He knows Akashi is not one to leave important things unsaid. And he can see the issue building in the faint creases between his eyebrows.

“It is a deal then.” He says. “I hope Tetsuya will give me active advice in when I presume too much.” Akashi ‘s voice is rather lighthearted but there is a cautious light in his eyes. He knows as well as Tetsuya that he has no reason to support Akashi in his efforts. This is as much as a request for help as it is Akashi’s way to communicate he understands the situation.

Tetsuya smiles ever so faintly. “I will see what I can do. I would hate to see Akashi-kun fail, after all.”

Akashi gives him a rather hard stare for a moment, before crinkling his nose. “I get the feeling Tetsuya is playing with me.” He says with a dry tone.

“I would never dare.” Tetsuya widens his eyes for effect.

Akashi chuckles before turning serious. He carefully takes Tetsuya’s hand in his and lifts it up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss against his knuckles. It’s the most earnest and also vulnerable expression Tetsuya has ever seen on him - aside maybe from when he was dying. But that was obviously different.

There are a lot of things Akashi could have said that moment. Tetsuya can see the emotions dance behind his eyes. But he doesn’t say anything, because maybe he understands that some things can’t and other things shouldn’t be put into words.

So he just holds on to Tetsuya’s hand, waiting patiently for Tetsuya to decide if or when he wants to make a move. And it goes without saying that this is how it is going to be from now on. And Tetsuya is grateful for how well Akashi seems to understand the situation.

He falls asleep in Akashi’s arms eventually, having climbed in there after a while to seek out the comforting warmth of another body. Not just any body.

Akashi’s.

There is significance there, as the only one who’d ever been allowed to guard his sleep is Kagami.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t take long for Akashi to ask after Kagami. He must have understood at least at some point the nature of their relationship, but there is only so much the eye can see. In any case, Tetsuya realizes it as the inquiry after his past that it is.

Akashi simply does not want to ask directly for something Tetsuya might feel compelled to offer if he did.

Tetsuya has taken up his court duties again and they have absolved another successful audience day. There had been an issue with Imperial soldiers harassing a faraway village, but Akashi had handled it smoothly. Tetsuya senses a deeper issue there, but Akashi asked him not to worry and to be patient, as he wants to be sure of something before revealing the state of things to Tetsuya. It may be an unnecessarily selfish thing to ask, but Tetsuya thinks it’s an important development. Akashi is careful and treats him with utmost gentleness, but he doesn’t ignore the fundamentals of their relationship. They are both their own person after all.

He tries for natural change, rather than forcing himself to be what he thinks Tetsuya wants.

So he lets it slide. Trust, after all needs to be mutual.

He tells this Akashi that evening. How there are certain things that need time, but how others have fallen into place already. In the wake of it, Akashi asks him after Kagami.

Kagami had inspired newfound motivation in the ranks of the palace guard. Aomine is blooming naturally, thriving on any challenge that tested his strength, even more so than Tetsuya could ever provide. Kise is similar and even Murasakibara finds his strength bested at Kagami’s hands. And Kagami is all too willing to teach what he knows.

He always had a home, but for once he doesn’t have to serve with bloodstained hands.

Tetsuya has made it a habit to spend his evenings in Akashi’s chambers. Even if Akashi is busy with work, even if all he does is reading on the couch, it still feels nice. Kagami’s complaints have been cut short rather effectively, after Aomine invited him to eat with him and the rest of the guards, and as much as Kagami resents them still, he can’t resist the easy camaraderie that comes with it.

Or maybe he can’t withstand the taunt Aomine’s mere presence promises. If anything, Kagami is holding on to his grudge for the sake of it, rather than actual resentment. Tetsuya had also made sure to disabuse him of any misguided notions in that direction.

“You and Kagami…” Akashi starts and trails off. Tetsuya offers him a quirked eyebrow and Akashi turns away with an embarrassed smile. “You have such a close relationship.” Akashi states. Sometimes, Akashi seems to have an extreme aversion to ask a question outright.

Or maybe he simply doesn’t know how to phrase the question.

Tetsuya tilts his head back until he can look at Akashi’s face. Since the day had been so busy, Akashi had decided to ignore his paperwork for once and instead serve as Tetsuya’s reading pillow. Akashi smiles down at him with a fond expression, entirely content with their positions. He’s gently carding his hands through Tetsuya’s hair, a soothing motion that has Tetsuya feel like a very content cat.

“If you want to know if Kagami-kun and I are romantically involved, the answer is no.” He says flatly.

Akashi rolls his eyes. “Please, I might have made that assumption wrongly once, but I am fairly sure Daiki would have already run into the sharp end of your blade if that were the case. Metaphorically speaking of course.”

Tetsuya frowns. “That would be assuming I were the jealous type. Also I am not yet convinced if Kagami-kun and Aomine-kun are attracted to each other or their similarities.”

“Which is essentially the same thing.”

“True enough.” Tetsuya agrees. “But as for your curiosity, Kagami-kun and I are brothers if you insist on putting a label on it. Not by blood of course. But close enough. I suppose you knew as much already.”

Akashi has the good graces to look slightly guilty.

Tetsuya allows a small smile. To his surprise, the expression on Akashi’s face is almost bashful. “If you would, I would like to know how you’ve met. Tetsuya said himself that I know little about his family. I would like to change that.”

Tetsuya closes the book he’s been holding open and puts it to the side. He won’t go back to reading anytime soon. “With ‘how we met’, I presume you mean how I ended up as the sacrifice that stubbornly refused to die and caused a whole lot of problems?” Tetsuya asks, tilting his head back to see Akashi’s face.

Akashi looks scandalized for a moment - torn between shock and surprise - before he starts laughing softly. “Yes, that is certainly incorporated in my interest.” Akashi cards his hand back through Tetsuya’s hair. It’s about the only thing he ever touches without being invited. Tetsuya sometimes thinks of telling Akashi he can touch him other places too, like taking his hand, letting their legs brush together, small stuff. He knows Akashi won’t abuse it, or at least he thinks he knows. He _wants_ to touch Akashi, wants Akashi to touch him. But he’s afraid to trust into what he thinks he wants but may not be able to handle it.

So he lets things be as they are.

Tetsuya leans into the touch, sorting his thoughts so he can tell the story properly. “What happened to the direct approach?”

Akashi’s hand stills for a moment, before picking up again with a slower pace. “I don’t know how to be direct, without being demanding.” Akashi says simply.

Tetsuya lets the enormity of that small admittance hang between them for a moment, before he dismisses it with a soft shake of his head. Akashi’s fingers curl around a strand of his hair, tugging slightly when he pulls them back.

“You could say that Kagami-kun saved my life.” Tetsuya says thoughtfully. Akashi’s hand stills again, and this time he doesn’t pick up again. Tetsuya continues all the same. “Not directly, nor would I have died without him there. He just happened to be the one whom befell the task of looking after me. Riko’s father Aida-san took me in after the sacrifice failed. Ah, I should explain that probably.” Tetsuya pauses to gather his thoughts again.

It’s easier now, he thinks, to revisit that painful memory of his. He sets out to give Akashi a quick rundown, a condensed version, but ends up detailing most everything that happened before, during and after his fifth birthday. It hurts, it will always hurt. But now he finally has closure, even f it cost his brother’s life. Even if he had to beg his mother’s grave for forgiveness for not lifting a finger to save his twin’s life.

“Riko was my mentor, but I learned almost everything I know from Kagami-kun. He was my first friend. He ended up saving my life for real a few times, but I saved his just as often.” He tells Akashi about the choice he made back then, tells him of the path that choice led him on. It takes a moment of hesitation, but in the end he tells him of his darkness too.

“I’m not the biggest person and as you’ve surely noticed, I am not big on physical strength.” Tetsuya smiles wryly. “I couldn’t build stamina, no matter what I did. I couldn’t outlast an opponent and I couldn’t match him in a battle of strength. My two options were distance or speed. I picked speed, because it was what Kagami excelled in, along with his brutish strength and animal instinct. It also meant I had to get close and personal with my targets.”

Tetsuya pauses again, thinks of what he and Kagami had talked about not so long ago in the palace garden. “Being so close to death, even if it is not your own, or maybe exactly because it is not your own, it makes you feel alive. Kagami said that was normal. But I didn’t just feel alive.” Tetsuya stares at his hand. “I felt powerful and _good_. As though I had finally found my calling.” He closes his hand into a fist. What kind of images could he paint with this hand and all the reds it had spilled?

Akashi says nothing, but his hand is a steady and warm presence in Tetsuya’s hair.

They both have their demons. The thought of the words Tetsuya had thrown in Akashi’s face such a seemingly endless time ago, make him want to laugh. _You and I are the same_.

“It made me happy. Although, happy may not be the right word. I don’t know if there really is a word for how I felt. Alive and happy to _be_ alive for the first time is maybe the most accurate description. Before that I had struggled with my existence in a way. Why had I been born, when all I was good for was to die? But all that didn’t matter once I had tasted the other side of the blade. I was a killer and I _liked_ it. Of course, Kagami took notice of it eventually and made sure to pull me back. But it’s still there at the edges of my mind.”

Silence settles between them, but it’s not an awkward silence. More an understanding silence that has no need for words. And just as such, Tetsuya has no need for consolidation. He and Akashi are the same. He understands the darkness that has driven Akashi - it is a mere reiteration of his own.

“I am thankful.” Akashi says eventually.

“I hope you don’t think of formally submitting your gratitude to Kagami-kun.” Tetsuya says flatly.

Akashi flicks a very soft finger against his forehead. “Tetsuya is surprisingly snarky.” He observes. Tetsuya can hear the smile in his voice.

“I should take offense to the surprisingly.” He replies.

Akashi chuckles. “Not to the snarky?”

“Ah, I have been accused of worse.”

Akashi mock-gasps. “That is unacceptable. Tell me their names and I shall make sure justice will be dealt.”

Tetsuya feels a laugh bubble up, one that doesn’t feel sharp edged or bitter. He almost gives in, but he’s not used to letting his emotions out like that. It feels safer to keep it inside.

Akashi still understands. “Tetsuya.” His voice sounds almost wistful. Tetsuya tilts his head to look, but is stopped by a gentle hand. There is a beat of contemplative silence. “I love you.” It’s said so quiet, Tetsuya barely hears it. He wants to tilt his head and look, but he knows Akashi won’t let him. He stares at the wall instead, feeling elated and so overwhelmingly happy, he can barely contain it.

But at the same time.

“I know.” He says into the silence. Akashi exhales. His hand enters Tetsuya’s vision, shaking but steady in its advance. “May I…” Akashi’s swallow is audible. “May I hold your hand?”

“You may.” Tetsuya’s own voice is calm, but barely so. He wants to blurt it out then, _I love you too_ , but he can’t. It’s too soon and his tongue feels like it’s wrapped into a knot so he swallows all the raging emotions down. He doesn’t know if he should hope Akashi can feel the turmoil through their locked hands or if he should hope he doesn’t.

He can’t say if they move too fast or too slow. Maybe they move at just the right pace. He can’t tell.

Akashi laces their fingers together and then lifts their hands up. Tetsuya feels the soft press of lips, just a flutter really, before Akashi lowers them down again.

It doesn’t matter at what pace they move. As long as he likes where they are going.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days are hectic now that Tetsuya has returned to attending court. Kagami has been quasi-accepted into Akashi’s Imperial guard, mostly due to Aomine dragging him whichever way and since Tetsuya welcomes his presence, Akashi has just gracefully accepted it too. There is no real trust between them, but Tetsuya gets the feeling that Akashi is making an honest effort to get to know Kagami. Which means that a lot of the evenings, Akashi takes dinner with all of his guards, along with Tetsuya and Kagami. Sometimes Momoi tags along and on some rare occasions they all end up in the dining hall.

But even in between that, Akashi always makes space for Tetsuya. Akashi invites him out for a hunting trip one day, ignoring all their duties for once and just enjoying the calm of nature. Tetsuya stays Akashi’s hand when they finally corner their prey - a young stag - and they watch together as it bounds away.

“I should have known you would do that.” Akashi says on their way back. He cuts a majestic figure, up on the back of his white horse, in his perfectly tailored hunting garb.

“Being surprised every now and then is not a bad thing.” Tetsuya deadpans.

Akashi shoots him a look that quickly turns into a warm smile. “I wasn’t bemoaning my surprise.” He says. “On the contrary, I was welcoming it.”

Tetsuya gives his best impression of concerned annoyance. “I feel vaguely insulted.”

Akashi smirks. “It says more about you than it does about me, that you feel that way.”

“Does it?” Tetsuya tilts his head. It feels a bit odd to do so on the back of a horse. The world is rocking unsteadily already; it helps little that his perspective has shifted now too. The effect it has is still worth it. Akashi’s grin shifts into a smile, so full of warmth and _love_ , it makes Tetsuya’s heart flutter wildly in his chest.

“It says that Tetsuya has a good heart.”

Akashi is looking at the trees now, a faintly smiling, so he doesn’t see the smile fall from Tetsuya’s lips. He appreciates the sentiment, he really does. He just knows that his heart isn’t bright or good. His heart is grey as best, black and light fused together, like the snakes coiling around his family’s crest.

Even without looking at him, Akashi still figures him out. Tetsuya is startled by the hand that reaches for his reins. Akashi hovers for a moment, before asking quietly if he may take over. Tetsuya hands him the reins and Akashi takes them, careful not to touch Tetsuya.

Again, he thinks he should finally invite Akashi to touch him as he pleases, but the words keep staying stuck in his throat.

“I’m holding the reins now. I could lead us down a cliff. What would that say about you?”

Tetsuya frowns. “Are we doing a metaphor?”

“As a matter of fact, we are.”

“May I ask why?”

“I can’t have it stand that I am wrong, can I know?”

Tetsuya hides his smile. “That would be unacceptable. But may I cut you short on this one? You were going to tell me that giving you the reins doesn’t make me responsible for your actions, weren’t you?”

Akashi hands him back the reins. “Yes.”

Tetsuya smiles wistfully. “I could have taken back the reins. I gave them to you knowing, you might abuse the power. Besides, you were going to just take them from me at first, weren’t you?” That one is a low blow and Tetsuya knows it.

The look Akashi gives him is contemplative and almost a little sad. “I won’t take back my words. Account it to my position, but from where I am, your heart seems blindingly bright. But I will not speak of it again, if you don’t wish me to.”

“Akashi-kun can speak his mind whenever he wants to.”

“If it were that simple, Tetsuya would speak his mind more often, wouldn’t he?”

Tetsuya opens his mouth, but there are no words coming. Nothing he could say to that. “I do speak my mind.” He says eventually, but knowing how fickle that claim is.

“You do,” Akashi agrees quietly, “if it suits you.” _And only then_ , seems to have been added silently.

Despite that, the atmosphere between them on their way back is amiable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night his dreams are soft and warm for once.


	18. The Edge of Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N: Today's fun fact:** There is a species of crustacean (I unfortunately forgot the name) where the male is significantly smaller than the female. When it's time for procreation, the male transforms entirely into a sperm cell and fuses with the female. And here I thought slug sex was weird.

“There is a nasty rumor going around the servant grapevine.”

Seijuro looks up from his paperwork to see Shintarou hovering at his study door. He glances past him into the main room, but Tetsuya has been invited out by Momoi, which is likely the reason Shintarou brings it up now.

Shintarou moves inside and closes the door behind him without an invitation. His guards have grown accustomed quickly to his change in personality.

“I am aware.” Seijuro leans back in his chair and gestures for Shintarou to sit down. “I am also aware that it is more than just a rumor to say I raped Tetsuya.”

To his credit, Shintarou doesn’t flinch but his expression is pinched. “The rumor has evolved.” He says with an unhappy frown. “Takao tells me there is talk about you losing control. First your husband, then your sudden departure without informing anyone.” He grimaces at that. It had been his idea to keep Seijuro’s abduction a secret and make it seem instead as though he had been called away on important business that could not be delayed.

“Not to mention my odd switch of personality upon my return.” Seijuro supplies calmly. “And I would say the man I pardoned on audience day does quite add to the confusion. Suspicious of murder and I let him walk free.”

“It was necessary. He was innocent.” Shintarou reminds him.

“You don’t have to remind me. The evidence to his innocence would have popped up at the most inconvenient of times, I am sure. Either way,” he hands Shintarou the document he had been reading, “not our only problem. Although this one was rather predictable.”

“You are not going to detain Haizaki?” Shintarou has his hand on the file, but has yet to read it.

“Haizaki?” Seijuro smiles wryly. “It may seem like it, but he is not the source.”

Shintarou’s eyes widen, before he pulls them into another frown. He fixes his spectacles to give himself a moment to think about the new information. “So someone else spread the rumors?”

“Yes.”

“But Haizaki might have functioned as the source of information.” Shintarou points out, but Seijuro shakes his head.

“Haizaki has been in the infirmary ward for about three days after his _accident_ , but he prematurely discharged himself and left. Reo tells me he filed for reassignment, at least it appears he did, but the one who allegedly offered the signature - Kasamatsu of all people - hasn’t talked to Haizaki since before the incident. No, someone wants us to believe Haizak is responsible.”

“He would invite that notion.”

“He does. But the rumors started spreading after he had left. Not to mention that the date of the reassignment papers issued doesn’t match with Haizaki’s actual departure but with his scheduled discharge.”

“Whoever set this up, didn’t predict Haizaki to ditch.” Shintarou surmises. Silence settles for a few moments, as Shintarou works his brain. “I suppose it is futile to investigate into the real source? We have too many suspects at hand and I expect whoever is behind it, made sure it can’t be traced back to them.”

“Likely.”

“There _is_ the possibility that it spread naturally.” Shintarou says, more for the sake of having said it than actually believing it.

“Again, the timing. A natural occurrence would have happened during our absence. Of course, if Haizaki had been indeed the source…” Seijuro holds out the palm of his hand and then closes it as though grasping something in his reach, “everything would fit.”

Shintarou’s left eyelid twitches once. He finally picks up the document Seijuro handed him and starts reading. He stops only after a few lines and looks back up at Seijuro. “Of course.” He says dully.

“His family hasn’t seen him in years.” Seijuro supplies the rest of the report. Indeed, it would have been nice if Chihiro had just gone on a quick family vacation. “Read the last bit.”

Shintarou’s eyes skip down and read the indicated line. He looks more than a little surprised once he’s done. “Should I be worried that you didn’t know that?”

“Well, I had my suspicions.”

“Of course you had. Although it is reassuring. If you didn’t know then our culprit definitely doesn’t.”

Seijuro shoots him a slightly annoyed look, which only results in an intensification of the smug expression on Shintarou’s face. He pulls the file from Shintarou’s hands and puts it back on its stack.

“That solidifies our suspicions.” Seijuro surmises.

“What are we going to do about it?”

“Follow the leads as intended.” Seijuro pulls something from a stack on the shelf behind him and hands it to Shintarou. “Kotaro found this in a hidden compartment in Chihiro’s room.”

Shintarou eyes the few sheets of paper with a critical look. Old parchment, hand written in faded ink, barely legible. There are traces of binding on the sides, dissolved most likely. “The remnants of the burned books, I presume?”

“Fortifying the impression Chihiro was in a hurry, as he apparently overlooked these in his rush. The content is quite peculiar. Mostly nonsensical without context, but one page points to a specific location. Coincidentally.”

“What about the compartment. Could Mayuzumi have known about it?”

“Hard to tell. I’d like to say he was too lazy to even attempt to search his rooms, but I want to give him some credit at least. What I can say is that it’s not like Mayuzumi at all to leave evidence. Regardless of circumstances.”

“He did fail to kill you.” Shintarou points out and Seijuro has to fight a smile.

“He did. And he’s made it his life’s mission to remind me frequently, how much he dislikes me. Someone apparently took him seriously.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya stares at the mess that is his favorite sparing outfit. He had planned to visit the training grounds, as there will be no court meetings today. Akashi has to catch up on some paperwork, but has promised to dine with him tonight.

He really should tell Akashi, Tetsuya thinks not for the first time. The incidents have worsened significantly. Just yesterday he had found a dead rat under his bed. Dead with its throat cut. He pulls out the dark leather pants that go with his outfit, but they are covered in the same sticky yellow paint as his shirt. The boots thankfully are untouched. Whoever is doing this seems to be working themselves up to something larger.

Tetsuya looks down at his hands. The paint had been mostly dried, but some has still rubbed off on his fingers. Technically, no one comes to his room, except for him and his maids. But practically, the whole of the staff and generally anyone with a smidgen of patience could enter it. As long as they figure out when it will be empty. And that doesn’t take into account the people with a knack of dropping by uninvited. It makes nailing down the culprit almost impossible.

He pulls out an old pair of pants and one of the few shirts Shion supplied him with and pulls them on. He tried to lay a trap once, put in a small piece of paper into the crack of his armoire to at least pinpoint a time, but Ayame sprang it when she was making his bed. He doesn’t want to involve his maids in this, more than he has to. It’s worse enough that Shion is endangered.

It is time he confides in Akashi. He can’t keep expecting trust without giving some in return. Besides, Akashi may be able to offer help. Tetsuya was willing to ignore it at first. There is enough reason for jealousy of his position, but he won’t allow the situation to escalate. Not if it could possibly endanger the people close to him. And if the culprit indeed connects back to one of the concubines, he will definitely need Akashi’s help in locating them.

But for now he will focus on his practice. He’s been rebuilding his stamina steadily, back to the point when he can finish a complete round of his usually training menu without collapsing. And it is time to knock Aomine down a peg or two. Sparing with Kagami had awarded him some immense improvement; Tetsuya can’t allow him to think he’s better than him now.

He can’t quite help but smile at the thought. Training used to be somewhat of a chore. Something he had to do to keep up his reflexes and stamina, and although it was fun to fight Kagami and test their strength, it also had something of a routine. Now, he doesn’t have to hone his skills for anything else but his own amusement. He has found an unfamiliar appreciation in measuring his skills against different opponents, just for the fun of it.

And even though he’s the Emperor’s consort, even though Aomine hinted once that no one can go all out against him, because he’s too precious, too valuable - no one treats him as such. He’s just one among many soldiers in training, everyone eager to proof their skills, learn something new or share their own progress. There all he gets to be is Tetsu, crazy-skilled maybe, but worth just as much as everyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner turns out to be far from the expected calm affair between Akashi and him - much needed to tackle the things unsaid between them. It was supposed to be a private dinner between the two of them, but it ended up being a group affair, after Tetsuya returned to his room after practice and found Sumire and Ogiwara waiting to inform him his new rooms were ready. The occasion had attracted Kise and his infallible sense for excitement. Quietly moving his stuff with no big fuss had transformed into a very heartwarming yet also tedious affair with lots of people showing up to wish him well or simply stating their support.

He had been tired, still is, but it felt wrong to restrict his evening to Akashi alone. And Akashi, always keen on the uptake when it comes to Tetsuya’s needs, had offered a group dinner to break in Tetsuya’s new room.

It’s rather messy the whole thing, but Tetsuya feels warm and content watching as his friends banter and argue, being as far from well mannered as one could be. It reminds him of dinners at Teikou, the rare occasions when most everyone was home and Aida invited everyone into the main room to eat. It had been rather chaotic back then too.

Kagami is busy shoveling insane amounts of food in his mouth, a feat that’s gone through its expected phase of causing amazement left and right. Aomine challenged him to an eating contest once, and even after getting Kise as backup, failed spectacularly. He tried to recruit Murasakibara, but apparently, eating for contest is ‘too much of a hassle’ and only worth it if the food in question are sweets.

Tetsuya notices the frequent glances Aomine shoots in Kagami’s direction - most notably looks of awe in the face of his infinite stomach, but in between are smaller looks. And as much as Tetsuya is loath to use a word like that, they were best described as mooning.

He catches Akashi’s eye and sees a knowing expression reflected there. Tetsuya feels a faint warmth in his cheeks and looks back down to his food. For a moment longer he can feel Akashi’s gaze on him, but Akashi has done much to give him his space and looks away soon after.

It’s somewhat embarrassing to have Akashi in on his de-facto brother’s potential love life. Mostly because it reflects so much of their own. Although neither Aomine nor Kagami seem much aware of their mutual attraction, but the way the act around each other is enviably natural. As if there isn’t even a need to talk to begin with.

“So how do you like your new rooms, Kurokocchi?” Kise had staked a claim to the seat at Tetsuya’s left, leaving his right to an uncontested Kagami.

“I don’t know.” Tetsuya says truthfully.

Kise’s smile doesn’t falter. “Ah, I’m sure Kurokocchi will get used to it soon. Although…” Kise frowns and glances at Akashi. There is something he wants to say - Kise’s always been sharper than he lets on generally - but he’s also carrying around a whole load of guilt. It’s obvious he wants Tetsuya to be happy. It’s just as obvious that he wants Akashi happy. Kise certainly connected the dots from there, but he won’t allow himself to meddle, not when it means overstepping a boundary, even if he’s set that boundary himself.

Kagami interrupts them by asking if Tetsuya is going to eat the rest of his food. He hasn’t even cleared his plate - sixth or seventh? - yet, but he’s an expert in determining when Tetsuya is done. Tetsuya hands him his plate without breaking eye contact with Kise. Kise’s eyes are unsure and maybe a tiny bit scandalized at Kagami’s table manners.

“Kise-kun.” Aomine had started a ruckus earlier, arguing loudly with Momoi about one thing or another and it’s loud enough to mask their half of the table, but Tetsuya still drops his voice. Kise leans his head into his space, smile as unsure as his look earlier. “What do you think Akashi-kun would say if I asked him to stay in his room?”

Kise’s jaw works for a few seconds before his face dissolves into the most artful rendition of teary-eyed bliss. He throws his hands up, already wailing ‘Kurokocchi’ and a moment later Tetsuya is squeezed tightly against his chest. At the opposite end of the table Akashi raises a questioning but very amused eyebrow. Tetsuya attempts a shrug but fails.

“That’s great Kurokocchi.” Kise whisper-yells, drawing the rest of the table’s attention he had failed to draw before. He then seems to realize what he’s doing, reeling back with remarkable speed, almost toppling backwards off his chair in an attempt to break contact. Tetsuya grasps his arms and steadies his impeding fall.

“Ah, sorry Kurokocchi.” Kise mutters, cheeks flushed slightly.

“What are you doing Kise?” Aomine asks, more curious than anything else. Kise blushes deeper.

“Nothing.” He mutters and starts fiddling with his knife.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” Aomine waggles his eyebrows. Kagami’s scowl goes unnoticed by everyone but Tetsuya and Akashi probably.

“Well, it is certainly none of your business.” Midorima points out. “Although I have to say, it was about time Kise.”

“Eh, what do you mean Midorimacchi?” Kise, now back in more familiar territory, pouts.

“Kise-chin is so slow.” Murasakibara mumbles between bites. He eats less, but is just as fixated on his food than Kagami.

“You too Murasakibarracchi? What is going on?” Kise complains. Momoi is the only one who sends him a compassionate look, the rest seems to busy enjoying his misfortune.

Midorima sighs and fixes his spectacles. “I will explain it to you later Kise.” He says it with the air of someone who really can’t be bothered to do so, but that’s how he sounds most of the time, really.

Kise still looks confused, but no one offers any further explanation so he settles on an enthusiastic ‘thank you, Midorimacchi’. The look Midorima sends him is nearly murderous, but that is also something rather common.

Later, when Aomine has kicked up yet another ruckus, this time with Murasakibara of all people, Kise leans in to whisper into Tetsuya’s ear, “Akashicchi would be overjoyed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya thinks of preceding his revelation with his intentions to make Akashi’s rooms his new home, but decides to save its strategic value for later. The others have finally left and Tetsuya has migrated to the couch in Akashi’s room, book in hand and waiting for Akashi’s return. He had been called out by Mibuchi to attend an urgent matter, but promised to be back as soon as possible.

Tetsuya has switched his day clothes with his night shift, a subtle indicator that he doesn’t intend to leave. Part of him can’t help but feel a bit worried though. He _knows_ Akashi won’t do anything, in any case he can always protect himself, but it is a huge step. The thought of sharing a bed with Akashi, even if just for sleeping and hopefully some cuddling, has his heart beat at a fast pace.

He can’t focus on the lines he’s reading. Akashi had made a clear effort; there is no doubt, but what if he doesn’t want to share a bed with Tetsuya? He should have at least asked before he changed clothes. This was a stupid idea. Tetsuya puts down his book and gets up. He can still change, but just then the door opens and Akashi walks in. He looks tired, exhausted rather, but his face lights up when he sees Tetsuya.

“Tetsuya.” Akashi smiles tiredly. He steps closer but pauses a small distance away. It’s up to Tetsuya to initiate contact, so he does. He would like to hug Akashi, it would be the first time, but something feels wrong about the idea, so he instead takes his hand and leads him to the couch.

Hugging might be out of the question, but snuggling up to Akashi who so willingly invites him in, feels natural already. “How do you feel about trading a secret for a secret?” Tetsuya asks once they’ve settled.

Akashi is silent for a moment. He has his arms around Tetsuya, who leans with his back against his chest. They can’t see each other’s faces like that, but Tetsuya can feel the soft puffs of Akashi’s breath against his hair. “Secrets.” He says it just shy of a question, like he wants Tetsuya to know he’s contemplating but not questioning.

“Maybe not secrets. But there is certainly something that bothers you.” Tetsuya amends. The days are still warm, but his night clothes are rather thin. Akashi is a solid and very comforting warmth against his back.

“I meant to tell you.” Anyone else and Tetsuya would have thought it an excuse, but Akashi sounds more like he had simply not deemed the time right yet. He can’t really argue with that.

“So did I.” Tetsuya tilts his head, but their position doesn’t allow for any feasible angle so he shifts back again.

Akashi hums. “Fair enough. I wanted your input on the matter anyway, but I call it a double win if I learn something more about Tetsuya.” Akashi’s voice sounds fond and the exhaustion from earlier seems to have gone completely.

Tetsuya makes sure the frown can be heard from his voice. “That is rather rude. Maybe I should decide if my secret is worth sharing, after Akashi-kun has told me his.”

Akashi’s laugh tickles his scalp. “Truthfully, having Tetsuya in my arms like that is reward enough.”

Tetsuya is glad Akashi can’t see his face right now. Wanting to share Akashi’s bed really wasn’t a good idea, he doesn’t think he can stand the closeness without dying of heart failure. The residual anxiety he’s felt ever since the incident seems to have cleared somehow. When Akashi smiles at him, laughs like he did just now, or if he holds him like that, all Tetsuya feels is fluttering exhilaration and of all things, _bashfulness_. He would call it insane how much he loves this man.

Akashi takes a breath and settles. The playful air dissipates just like that. “I have reason to believe there is a traitor among my subordinates.” He starts, levelly, leaving a pause at the end for Tetsuya to work through the revelation.

Tetsuya turns the words over for a moment. “The assassination attempt.” He says after a while. “The mastermind. Well, that isn’t exactly news.”

Akashi sighs. “No, it isn’t.” Now he sounds tired again. “But the situation has changed during the last few days. But let me start from the beginning.”

Tetsuya listens quietly, mind already running and sorting through all the details, the ones that Akashi supplies and those that he’s picked up himself.

“We have received a report just now, pertaining the village mentioned in the documents we found in Chihiro’s rooms.” Akashi concludes his explanation.

Tetsuya taps a finger against the armrest of the couch. A lot of things don’t add up, Akashi is right on that. “I suppose the report offered reasons for concern?”

Akashi pulls his lips into a wry smile. “Naturally. The agent we sent to investigate was posing as a common merchant. He reports surreptitious behavior from some of the villagers and apparently he was warned away from a certain building. Well, warned not so much, but he felt that the mayor’s attendant went out of his way to draw attention to the building, only to deflect immediately after.”

“It seems someone wants our attention on that building.”

“Yes. Although I am worried about the chosen approach. They must have been aware the merchant was an agent, but there should be no way for them to know that.”

“Maybe they were expecting someone to show up. Even if the merchant was unrelated, if their intent is indeed to draw us out, it wouldn’t matter how the news reached us.”

“True. Considering the sloppiness of the approach, I feel inclined to believe it might not have been intentional at all. But that might as well be the intention behind. Either we have a very skilled chess master at our hands that wants to lure us in with seemingly sloppily placed traps, or someone has no idea what they are doing.”

“It does not matter either way, does it? I figure the approach to both is rather similar.”

Akashi remains silent for a moment. Then he softly exhales, like a laugh but not quiet. “I suppose this does have something of a shogi game. Figuring out if your opponent is truly smart and thinks through all of his moves, or if he has no idea what he is doing and riding on sheer luck.”

“Only luck doesn’t get you far in shogi.”

“Of course not. But it is all the same important to figure your opponent out. Depending on their skill, they tend to react rather different to any given move. Think someone a fool who isn’t and he will surely trip you. And since we have yet to determine ours, it is hard to decipher if they are brilliant or just out for chaos.”

“Regarding that. I may have no idea who the culprit is, but I may have a clue.”

“By chance, does it have anything to do with your secret?”

“It does. This may have gone on for a while now, but I still ask you not to…” Tetsuya hesitates. He can’t quite think of the right words to phrase what he wants to say. “…freak out.”

Akashi isn’t exactly doing anything, but he still very audibly pauses. “Tetsuya-“ He starts, but Tetsuya doesn’t intent to let him get the wrong idea.

“It is not what you are thinking, well, I think it is not what you are thinking. Either way, I didn’t mean to imply you would freak out at me, but rather on my behalf. Now listen.” Akashi had taken a breath to speak up, but exhales now, leaving the silence for Tetsuya to fill. “There have been small incidents recently and not so recently. Incidents that could pass as accidents, like a forgotten needle in my gown, torn strings, too much salt in my food and more. But as you can gather from that listing, they have been rather frequent. At first I figured it was merely someone expressing their distaste at me being an unsuitable Queen - it happens. I wasn’t concerned. Needless to say, I _know_ how to protect myself.”

It’s rather obvious that Akashi has a hard time not interrupting, likely to counter just about everything Tetsuya has said on his behalf. But he doesn’t. Instead he tightens his hold around Tetsuya rather protectively. A currently unengaged part of his brain is very pleased at that.

“Just today though I’ve found one of my favorite outfits ruined beyond repair. I suppose there is no real sinister implication to yellow paint, but the sentiment remains. These might be entirely unrelated matters, but it would be unwise to ignore their possible relation.”

Akashi doesn’t respond immediately after Tetsuya is finished, instead he seems to be thinking rather hard. There’s tension in his arms, but he keeps his hold loose around Tetsuya.

“Someone is certainly interested in my downfall; it wouldn’t be too far off to assume you might get caught up in that.” Akashi says slowly. “Although… when did these incidents start?”

Tetsuya has to think back for a moment. “About a week before the assassination attempt. The needle I used then was the one I found in my robes. I am not entirely sure however, back then I paid little mind to the incident. Small things kept happening after that. Ah, Shion informed me that most of my wardrobe had been destroyed while we were gone.”

“Could it have been one of your maids?” Akashi asks and Tetsuya can hear how much he strains to remain calm. Akashi - this version at least - is very protective of his friends.

Tetsuya would like to argue in favor of his maids. They have no reason to hate him, nor did they ever give him reason for distrust. But, he of all people knows that things rarely are what they seem. “I have no reason to believe so.” He says carefully.

“But also no reason not to.” Akashi surmises.

“The same can be said for most of the staff and residents alike. Although my maids do have the easiest access. That should be no reason for accusations though.”

“We have yet to determine if the incidents are related.” Akashi sighs. He rests his chin on the top of Tetsuya’s head. The quiet that settles between them is calm and peaceful, despite the heavy topic. It just goes to show how well their mutual trust has developed.

Tetsuya is the one to break the silence this time, “I attempted a trap once, but it failed. Maybe I should ask Kagami-kun to hide in the closet instead.”

Akashi’s chin digs into Tetsuya’s scalp as he speaks. “I don’t think Kagami would appreciate being stuck in your closet.”

Tetsuya hums. “That’s why I’ve decided to stay in Akashi-kun’s room instead.” His declaration is met with silence. Tetsuya tries hard not to read too much into it, but he can’t help but brace for a denial.

When he finally does reply, Akashi’s voice is so quiet Tetsuya can barely hear him, “I would like that.”

Tetsuya’s heart does an odd little flip. His pulse rate quickens. Just a few small words can have this large of an effect. Now he understands why he thought Akashi’s voice was trembling just the slightest bit. He feels like crying himself, not out of sadness but to relieve the incredible happiness that is building in his chest.

He should think of ways to find the traitor, but he can’t quite focus on anything else but Akashi’s breath in his hair. Maybe they are moving too fast. He doesn’t care.

“We should go to bed.” Akashi proposes what seems to be an eternity later. But in truth, barely any time has passed.

“Akashi-kun is rather forward.” Tetsuya comments as flat as ever.

Akashi lets out a rather tortured sound. “Tetsuya can be insufferable sometimes.” He tries for annoyance, but can’t quite hide the amusement in his voice.

“That is a harsh accusation Akashi-kun.” Tetsuya blinks his eyes as wide as possible, not that anyone is there to see it right now.

“Yes, maybe we should bring this in front of the court. We can’t have an insufferable Queen.” Akashi says with faux earnest. “Imagine the outrage.”

“Not as much outrage as if I’d reveal Akashi’s indecent bedroom proposals.”

Tetsuya knows he’s gone too far when Akashi doesn’t quip back. No, not going too far. But he has shifted the conversation into unsteady territory.

Akashi gently untangles from him, leaving Tetsuya feeling cold and vulnerable. He could say something, assure Akashi that he’s fine and comfortable with their situation, that there is no reason to worry, but maybe this is a conversation they need to have.

“Tetsuya…” Akashi’s face carries an expression Tetsuya has never before seen on him. It’s open and vulnerable, but it’s more than that. There’s sadness and hurt, a lot of guilt and some self-loathing, other things too - a gentle note of caring, affection and underneath all so much love it could make him cry.

They’re not touching, Akashi is hovering close but there is not a centimeter of contact between them. Tetsuya wants to bridge the distance, force them to be okay with the drag of his arms, but he doesn’t. He never let Akashi ask for forgiveness properly.

Now he has to deal with the consequences.

“I would never lay a hand on you.” Akashi’s voice is steady, forced out through the whirlwind of emotions that still shows on his face. “This I promise you. No, I swear it to you. On my mother’s grave.” A different kind of pain flashes through Akashi’s eyes, old and familiar - born from a life without a mother. He wants to say more, but Tetsuya knows he can’t let him. The way the power dynamics are between them tight now, it will always leave Akashi in a disadvantage. No matter what Tetsuya did, Akashi would let him without a doubt.

The exact same imbalance they had before - only in reverse.

“Akashi-kun.” Tetsuya says. And then, because he can’t fathom his thoughts into words that would express the meaning he wants to convey, “Seijuro.”

Akashi’s eyes widen. The pain, the hurt, all of it washes away in an instant. He swallows, eyes faintly wet.

“I know.” Tetsuya says. And then, because this is important and he hopes with all his being that Akashi _understands_ , “I _know_.”

Akashi stares at him for a moment, understanding slowly dawning. And really, it’s all there in the sound of his name. Akashi dips his head, a gesture of acknowledgement. He takes Tetsuya’s hands, slowly but without asking or hesitation.

His mind might have doubts, things aren’t that simple and he _shouldn’t_ forgive that easily, but his heart’s desire is simply stronger. Whatever the consequences may be, this is what he wants. And maybe that is the lesson Kureha and Kagami and all the others tried to teach him. Whatever the consequences may be, he is absolutely certain he can live with them. Because this is his decision.

Whatever may come of it, he won’t regret it.

The past is the past. It will always hurt in one way or another, but what lies ahead of them now is the future. And they can build the road there together.

His dreams had been tame the last nights, permeated by slivers of grey every now and then, but mostly peaceful. Maybe he’s finally come to terms with it; maybe the happiness in his chest simply leaves no space for anything else. It does not matter.

That night, wrapped up in the warmth of Akashi’s arms, for the first time he dreams of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say this often enough, but thank all of you who have supported me one way or another. I repeatedly think that I should start and reply to every comment I get, if only to say thank you, but I am not too well versed with words (who would have guessed) when it comes to simple means of communications. I look at the comments and reviews I get and don't know what to say, quite honestly. Just thanking you repeatedly doesn't quite feel enough. But I am grateful for every little word of encouragement, for the people who take time to point out what they liked, who theorize, who thank me for my work, for liking/following/favoriting/kudosing/whatevering my work. Maybe one of these days I will get up and start replying to everyone. Maybe I won't. But I will always be grateful.
> 
> And because I am so grateful I am going to tell you that, soon we will be putting that slug sex knowledge to good use. ~~Just kidding~~.


	19. Forbidden Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a surprising fit of sudden inspiration, I have extended the epilogue to almost 3k words. As such (and as it would have made the last chapter too long if I had just tagged it on) there will be an extra chapter for the epilogue. Hooray.  
>  **Today's fun fact:** Female bedbugs and mites don't have an opening for sex. As a result, the male has to drill a hole into their partner to insemiante them. This process is called traumatic insemination.

Seijuro comes to a decision sometime in the early morning hours. He needs more sleep than when his Emperor Eye was still active, but that doesn’t keep his brain from working during his sleep.

Executing said idea however is slightly postponed by the revelation Ryouta brings him over breakfast. A shipment of ceremonial chevalier armor had arrived the day before, allegedly signed by his name, but the officials responsible for trading were completely unaware. Ryouta had the presence of mind to put it on hold, before payment could be issued.

Already, rumors are spreading. The five year anniversary of his rule is this autumn and people suspect he is planning something. One half of the people are angry at his overspending, the other half excited at the prospect of a celebration.

Again, the speed with which the rumors have started circling is remarkable and the timing is suspicious as well. Katsunori, the minister of Treasury is on his annual one week vacation and hadn’t Ryouta been there to intervene, payment would have been made and Seijuro would have found himself with ten score of armor he doesn’t need.

He instructs Daiki and Atsushi to talk to the merchant. If it turns out the merchant is innocent and merely the victim of someone else’s scheme, he will be compensated. The armor can be refurbished, especially if it’s made from high grade metal.

This incident fortifies Seijuro’s decision. Whoever is behind all this doesn’t only possess remarkable insight - meaning they must be high on the hierarchy ladder - they also seem to build up to something. Seijuro going on another journey to investigate a so far inconspicuous village, based on some vague findings, would only fuel the rumors. Personally, he wouldn’t care what others think of him, but he has other things to consider. And if this is leading where he thinks it is, then the endgame is to dethrone him so whoever is behind it can step up.

Which at least decreases the circle of suspects.

With the armor incident taken care of, he sends Shintarou and his attendant Kazunari to investigate the village. Shintarou can be trusted to handle everything discreetly and Kazunari’s falcon can serve as a messenger.

Court proceeds as usual that day, but Seijuro pays little attention to his minister’s bickering. He has yet to find replacements for Suzuki and Nakano, but their absence makes little difference to the general volume. Tetsuya has presidency for today, judging by the very well guarded look in his eyes, he hates Seijuro a tiny little bit for that right now.

Seijuro gives him a reassuring pat on the knee under the table, gaining him a rather mutinous glare. He gives himself a moment to just enjoy the feeling - of knowing he can tease Tetsuya like this and maybe Tetsuya will be a bit snarkier than usual, but he’ll still seek out Seijuro’s proximity at every opportunity.

He knows they’re not okay entirely - too much left in the open and on fragile balance. But.

It is what Tetsuya wants. He will never again argue with that.

Masayuki and Shouichi break into a fight, or rather Masayuki fell for one of Shouichi’s many provocations, but they are quickly settled by the Chancellor. Fujiwara seems older every time Seijuro sees him. He had been there for him after his mother had died, always offering support when Seijuro’s father had been too strict. It’s been so busy lately; he barely had the time to talk to his mentor. He should challenge him to a shogi game soon. He doesn’t want to think about how soon that might no longer be possible.

Tetsuya who so far has mostly listened and stirred the conversation every now and then when it threatened to veer off course, puts a decided end to the ongoing discussions. Seijuro is pleased to note that while his handle certainly isn’t perfect, Tetsuya’s decisions are sound and stand uncontested. Well, as long as one disregards Masayuki’s unhappy face and very obvious displeasure at Tetsuya’s involvement.

Shouichi saunters off first, without a single care in the world, a frantic Sakurai trailing after him with a pile of documents. The rest follows after, nodding to show Seijuro their respects or blatantly ignoring him like Masayuki. Maybe he should appoint another minister of Ceremonies. With the shift in power that’s been happening ever since his grandfather stepped up, there is little need to placate the noble houses. The Rakuzan are wealthy enough not to rely on the domains’ monetary support and military power has long been centralized. Power should be earned by skill and not through inheritance.

He realizes the slight irony in him making that assessment, he does, but Seijuro has always been trained to excel in everything he does. He definitely has the skill to back up his claim.

Seijuro gently taps Tetsuya on the shoulder to ask him to wait for him, before he makes his way over to talk to Fujiwara. The old man’s eyes light up when he sees him and he smiles warmly.

“Seijuro-kun.” Fujiwara needs the help of his assistant to stand; still he bows his back in deference. “It’s been so long since we last spoke. There’s fungi growing behind my ears for sure.”

“I see your attempt at flattery. But surely there are other people who can match you in an intellectual discussion?”

“None quite like you, I’m afraid.”

“Well, how about a game of shogi then? I do have some business to attend to today, but we can schedule a match later this week?”

“I should take that as an offense Seijuro-kun.” Fujiwara’s smile is brittle but sincere. “Since when do you have to schedule time for your oldest friend?”

“Since I took over running an entire country.” Seijuro says lightheartedly.

Fujiwara hums and nods. “Very well then. I’ll be looking forward to your invitation. I hope you have learned a few new moves since last time.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want your defeat be boring and repetitive, wouldn’t I?”

Fujiwara laughs, his whole face crinkling up as he does. “It’s good to see your wit hasn’t withered. Now, if you will excuse me. But my old bones long for their afternoon tea.”

“Of course.” Seijuro watches as Fujiwara walks away, supported by his attendant. He suddenly feels like being a child again, mother dead and a demanding, indifferent father with Fujiwara the only adult he felt he could rely on. He doesn’t like to think back on those times. But maybe he can get a new perspective on this whole mess by confiding in Fujiwara.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ogiwara is blithely chattering away at his side. Jumping from topic to topic with a pace that would leave Kise astonished, but Tetsuya likes the backdrop it provides. Likes that he doesn’t have to engage in anything Ogiwara says and that his attendant doesn’t mind that he’s essentially talking to an unresponsive wall.

He watches Akashi converse with his old mentor. They seem at ease with each other like old friends that are comfortable in each other’s presence. Or so it seems. It’s hard to get a read on the Chancellor. He appears papery thin; fragile to the point of breaking from a strong breeze, but underneath he seems to be made from steel.

Tetsuya sighs. There is little doubt they have a traitor among their midst. It has made him wary of the people around him. Even now, looking at Akashi talking to his old friend, he is running through options and possibilities, tries to find arguments that could assess Fujiwara’s role in all this. Blind trust may be dangerous, but so is baseless mistrust.

“Kuroko-sama?” Ogiwara has stopped his monologue and is now looking at him worriedly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes.” Tetsuya says with a reassuring smile. Being around Akashi’s guards has somewhat loosened his grip on his own emotions. His sigh must have alerted Ogiwara.

Ogiwara squints at him. There is a small splotch of red on his chin that Tetsuya identifies as strawberry jam. Dried strawberry jam. Finding food on his attendant’s face has become somewhat of a habit, so much that Tetsuya has started to overlook it. “Are you sure? You sighed. Like really loud. Kuroko-sama doesn’t sigh. I mean I’m not telling you what you can and can’t do, but I haven’t heard you sigh once. Is it the rumors by any chance?”

Tetsuya frowns, but Ogiwara is already carrying on, “Don’t let it get to you, Kuroko-sama. Not every rumor has a true core.”

He sighs inwardly. Akashi had told him of the rumors. Not in detail but enough to get some basic idea. They did concern him after all.

“I am not worried about the rumors.” He assures Ogiwara. He’s not entirely sure if he should confide in his attendant. Ogiwara can be trusted; it’s not that he has doubts about that. But the knowledge is somewhat of a burden. Ogiwara would worry even more if he knew.

Ogiwara scrutinizes him for a moment, eyes unusually attentive for once. Whatever he sees, it seems to satisfy him. “Okay, I trust Kuroko-sama. But please confide in me whenever you need a confidant. I’m here for you.” His sincerity is touching.

Tetsuya tilts his head and quirks the faintest of smiles. “Thank you, Ogiwara-kun.”

Ogiwara’s grin is face-splitting. “Kuroko-sama can count on me anytime.”

Akashi has finished his conversation and walks over. With Mayuzumi gone and Midorima on a temporary mission, he’s without attendant, but it doesn’t detract any from his regal presence.

“Shall we?” He asks Tetsuya and holds out his arm. From the corner of his eyes Tetsuya can see Ogiwara’s eyes go wide before he turns to hide a rather goofy smile. He quickly excuses himself moments later.

“Akashi-kun has yet to tell me where to.” Tetsuya says lightly but takes the arm nonetheless. Akashi had asked him to keep the afternoon free, but has refused to disclose a purpose.

“Well, it is time I introduce you to the Imperial harem.”

Something tightens in Tetsuya’s chest. It comes as a bit of a surprise, both the proposal and the accompanying feeling of  _jealousy_. He doesn’t like the idea of contenders for Akashi’s feelings, even if they’re really no contest at all.

Akashi’s smile is knowing. “In light of the recent events, don’t you think it prudent to ascertain the status of the most likely suspects?”

Tetsuya gives him a deadpan look. He _knows_ that. And Akashi the bastard probably knows that he knows, but he most likely also reads the thoughts of jealousy right from his forehead.

“At least I didn’t think Akashi-kun had an illicit affair with one of his friends.” He mutters under his breath, causing Akashi to burst into very surprised, very startled laughter.

Tetsuya doesn’t hide the smug smile. Joking like this, about _that_ topic of all things, feels odd, but not bad.

“I still take it as a compliment that Tetsuya is jealous.” Akashi says after calming down. They’ve attracted quite a bit attention on their way so far. Tetsuya thinks briefly of the circulating rumors, but dismisses the thought. As Akashi had said, rumors die when left alone and controlling their behavior in public won’t do any good in the long run.

“Why would I be jealous?” Tetsuya blinks with wide eyes. “Don’t I have Akashi-kun’s undivided attention?” It comes out lightly, a joke, but Akashi’s face softens all the same. There is a warm glow in his eyes, one that’s solely reserved for him.

“I may have to work on the undivided.” Akashi says, before quickly pulling him into a corner to kiss him. Tetsuya is so surprised he doesn’t react at first. It’s short; Akashi pulling back by the time Tetsuya’s brain has caught up with what’s happening.

Akashi looks a bit unsure, faintly smiling but likely confused by Tetsuya’s lack of reaction. Tetsuya kisses the expression right off his face. This time the kiss is longer and Akashi’s hands find their way into Tetsuya’s hair. Tetsuya wraps his arms around Akashi and soaks in the feeling of being so close. His heart is beating fast and it’s only small part from nerves.

It’s not their first kiss, but somehow this one feels more important than the others. Like they’ve traversed a boundary.

They break apart eventually. The corridor is deserted, but that may change any moment now. Akashi is the Emperor of this country, every person in their vicinity answers to him and yet it feels like they’re treading on forbidden territory, a sneaky romance to be kept away from prying eyes.

“We should go.” Tetsuya suggests softly, but makes no attempt to move. Akashi has pulled back just enough to allow a breath of space between them. He’s so close Tetsuya can see the shadows his eyelashes cast on his cheeks.

“We should.” Akashi agrees and after another few heartbeats they finally pull apart. Tetsuya’s skin still feels flushed and warm from their closeness and the feeling lasts for quite a while after. They hold hands until they reach the path that leads towards the forbidden palace. The path itself is small and seldom used these days. The last two generations before Akashi have made little use of their harem.

The palace is ancient and ivy-clad. Rumors have it that many men who attempted to bite a piece from the forbidden fruit died in their attempt to climb the walls. Either way, if the poison ivy didn’t kill them, the array of heavily armored guards certainly would.

The guards that are assigned to the forbidden palace are a separate division from the Imperial and palace guard. They receive special training and are exclusively homosexual. Trying to sneak into the division by pretending, awards one with lifetime service and castration, so few do ever try. At least that’s how it used to be. With the shift of the Emperor’s attention ever since Akashi’s grandfather, less people have attempted to get their hands on the coveted prize. Still, the guards underwent rigorous screening and are bound by oath to protect the concubines with their lives.

Four of them flank the gate in the wall that surrounds the palace, as overgrown by ivy as the rest of the building. They bow at their sight, deep and reverent. Akashi nods and one of them unlocks the massive gate, pushing it open. The metal screeches from lack of use.

Tetsuya is reminded of what Momoi once said to him. As far as he knows, his and Akashi’s wedding was the only time the concubines have been allowed outside their prison since their arrival. Emperors would come to visit in olden times, their favorites they would invite into their bedchamber at night. But these women have met Akashi maybe once in their life.

He looks to the side and sees a rueful expression in Akashi’s eyes.

It’s a beautiful prison, but a prison all the same.

The space between wall and palace is bigger than Tetsuya thought. There is a beautiful garden with small walkways and benches in the front. The area stretches out behind the palace, a small park with trees and more flowers. The palace itself is two stories, but since the ivy swallows up every distinguishing features it is hard to determine any details. Two more guards stand outside the front doors, again bowing and opening without saying a single word.

Tetsuya can feel eyes on him the moment they enter. The entrance hall is large and airy. A double staircase leads up onto the balcony of the second floor. The room is empty at first glance and Tetsuya can’t see anyone upstairs either, but he can’t shake the feeling of being watched. They’ve barely taken a few steps, when a thin, bald man hurries out from one of the doors and makes to hastily bow in front of them.

“Welcome Master Akashi. Please forgive my tardiness; I was not aware you were coming.”

“It is of no matter.” Akashi says graciously and gestures for the man to stop bowing. “We would like to meet everyone.”

The man’s eye dart to Tetsuya for a moment upon the mention of ‘we’, a clearly unhappy expression in them. “Of course.” He says and turns to lead them through one of the many doors leading away from the hall. “It will take me a moment to alert and gather everyone. Would you like refreshments in the meanwhile?”

“Yes, please.” Akashi says calmly. He leads Tetsuya to sit on a plush sofa in the middle of a lavishly decorated salon. There are armchairs and lounges, sofas and couches and all kinds of other seating furniture, all grouped around the very sofa they are sitting on.

The man scuttles away after bowing once again. Tetsuya looks after him. He hadn’t been aware of the face he’s made until Akashi sighs. “It is not ideal,” he says, “I should have sent them home a long time ago.”

“And who would take them back?” Tetsuya asks flatly.

“Precisely.” Akashi says with a wry smile. “This is likely the only place they are welcome.”

“The least you can do is offer them a choice.” Tetsuya doesn’t know why he brings it up, but something about this simply is too familiar.

Akashi regards him for a moment. Tetsuya thinks they shouldn’t have this conversation here. They speak in hushed voices, but the room is empty and sound carries far in silence. He still feels the faint prickle of being watched. He doesn’t want to be here.

“I will.” There is a hint of steel in Akashi’s voice. “Once I’ve determined that none of them is responsible.” He doesn’t say for what. Not that he needs to.

They are interrupted by the lilting voice of a beautiful woman in an extravagant dress, the likes of which Tetsuya has never seen before. Pendulous purple flowers have been rendered into the green fabric of the dress; the sheer artistic prowess necessary for this amount of detail is stunning. She wears lavish hair ornaments decorated with the very same flower. “Oh my, what a pleasant surprise. Your Majesty himself deems to pay us fair maidens a visit.” She sounds pleasant enough, joyful even, but Tetsuya doesn’t miss the edge to her words. It could be teasing, but he’s too familiar with the sentiment to not recognize the resentment.

The woman is older than Tetsuya would have expected Akashi’s concubines to be. She seems at least in her thirties, although all tangible traces of her age have been masterfully hidden behind makeup. It’s her eyes that give her away, bar the youthful spirit and instead aged with time and shattered dreams.

Akashi tilts his head. “Kimiko-san, how have you been?” There is an edge in Akashi’s voice too, maybe better hidden but to Tetsuya it is fairly obvious.

“Boring, you never come to visit.” She doesn’t pout but it’s a near thing. In a way she reminds Tetsuya of Kise, only less… benevolent, for lack of a better word. Like she’s used to charm the world into doing her bidding. Unlike with Kise though, the world at large seems to have deeply disappointed her. Jaded, is the word that comes to mind.

She walks over gracefully, the seam of her dress flowing around her like water. Her eyes dart to him for the briefest of moments and for the first time in his life Tetsuya thinks he might have caught a glimpse of what people see when they look into his eyes. A wall of ice, slippery and impenetrable. He’s disconnected from that part of his personality - as far as it is possible - but Kimiko seems to have only this one facet.

Kimiko sits strategically, the armchair closest to their position, but isolated from the rest.

“I expect you have a lot of stories to entertain?” She asks, ignoring Tetsuya completely. Kimiko sits in her chair utterly relaxed, resting most of her upper body’s weight on her left arm that’s draped over the armrest, so that her whole front is turned to them. Her hairdo is as extravagant as her dress, dark strands curled into a flower-like shape with the occasional curl falling around her face. It is way too elaborate to have been thrown on on short notice, but she couldn’t have known there were coming. Tetsuya wonders if everyone dresses like that.

“None that would interest you.” Akashi says. His eyes flit over her, before settling on the door, where two other women have appeared. Although in their case, girls would be more appropriate. Akashi is not looking at her, but Tetsuya sees the shadow that passes over Kimiko’s face. For a moment she looks very bitter and very angry.

The girls stare at Akashi with wide eyes, one hiding behind her slightly taller companion. They are similarly dressed to Kimiko, but none has the elegant aura to match her.

“Get a move on, will ya.” A voice calls from behind them and they hastily rush inside. The smaller one aims for a sofa at the back of the room, but is held back by her friend to bow in front of Akashi. They pay no intention to Tetsuya. It’s been long since someone overlooked him. He instantly feels more at ease, settling in more comfortably next to Akashi, whose hand winds around his almost automatically.

Out of the corner of his eyes he sees the surprise on Kimiko’s face, eyes drawn to their hands. This time, there is hatred in the firm set of her mouth, but her eyes pull back into an impenetrable wall of ice.

The voice belongs to a curvy woman who greets Akashi with a nod, but seems otherwise mostly unconcerned by his presence. The room fills with people rather quickly, mostly women, but Tetsuya spots a few men here and there. The women span a wide stretch of appearances, from refined beauty to comely, from barely out of girlhood to Kimiko who seems to be among the oldest. The men however, all of them are boyish, feminine even. It can’t be coincidental. Even though some of them have definitely reached adulthood; they all enhance the same traits. They are all beardless and some have even long hair to match with the women.

Tetsuya is glad no one seems to notice him. He feels vaguely sick. Kimiko has a soft smile on her lips that doesn’t reach her eyes. Her early arrival and strategic placement puts her in an advantageous position, one which she intends to fully exploit by the looks of it.

A trio of women enter next, but they are obviously servants. They place plates of snacks on the small table scattered through the room. One of them places two cups in front of Akashi and Tetsuya and pours in water. She curtseys and hurries out after the other two.

Hushed silence follows their exit; the entire room has their attention trained on Akashi who doesn’t seem to care the least about the eyes on him.

“My, my, where is Fuyu?” Kimiko breaks the silence. “Did no one think of fetching her again?”

“Sachiko went to fetch her.” One of the boys says from the couch next to theirs. He has a pleased little smirk on his lips.

Sachiko, the curvy woman from before shoots him an annoyed glance. “Fuyu didn’t want to come.” She says. “She said she had better things o do.”

Someone gasps. Kimiko smiles. “Well, breed certainly does show with that one. It may be better like this. We wouldn’t want to expose our dear Akashi-sama to such vulgarity.” She flutters her eyelashes a few times. Someone in the back giggles and is hastily shushed by others.

“I thought Fuyu-chan was a distant cousin of the Akashi’s.” Someone says and the smile drops from Kimiko’s lips. She clears her throat, but Akashi doesn’t wait for her to speak.

“I would like to not waste unnecessary time on bickering and ascertaining the social ladder right now.” There is a certain amount of charm in his voice, a pleasant cadence that has half the girls in sight swoon in their seats. His grip on Tetsuya’s hand only tightens. “I want you all to meet my,” and there is, the barest of hesitations, as though Akashi has yet to test the sound of the word on his tongue for the first time, “my husband and Emperor consort. Kuroko Tetsuya.”

As if to show tangible proof, Akashi raises their joined hands, pulling away the veil of his weak presence. Kimiko’s lips thin, but she forces a smile. The rest is suffering from a mix of shock and surprise, gasps and exclaims filling the air for a moment.

“He’s gorgeous.” Someone breathes in awe.

“Isn’t he rather plain?” Someone else mutters and is quickly hushed by someone else.

Akashi looks at him and smiles. There is so much in that smile, pride and love, but also an apology. Tetsuya tilts his head ever so slightly, not smiling but giving an answer in his own way.

“It is an honor to meet you, Kuroko-sama.” A young woman on the armchair of the other side of their sofa says. She is the only one except Sachiko whose hair hangs open over her shoulders. She’s around his own age, Tetsuya thinks, and one of the few who seems genuinely happy to meet him.

“Likewise.” Tetsuya says. His voice feels oddly rusty, like he hasn’t used it in a long time.

“We have been to your wedding, but it is the first time I see you in person. How do you like your new life so far?” The question is innocently enough, but Tetsuya can see the shift it causes in the room. There are whispers and more of those _looks_. Many in this room must hate him for the status he obtained. Which one of them - if at all - is responsible for all the incidents?

“Quite well, thank you.” Tetsuya says with the barest inclination of his head. Given enough time he could probably find the culprit, but there are too many and not enough time to get a read on all of them. He can maybe do a rough sorting of probability, who could be a suspect and who’s unlikely. But even that could be far off.

“Kuroko-sama’s life must be so exciting.” One of the woman gushes. It’s like she’s kicked off a landslide. In a matter of moments, almost everyone in the room urges him to share tales of his new life. It doesn’t take long and the room has erupted into a volcano of chatters and musical voices.

Tetsuya keeps his face a carefully polite mask, but inwardly he’s anything but calm. He can be politely deflective, but this s more than just innocent curiosity. A substantial part of the questions seem to be aimed precisely to make him uncomfortable, veiled behind high pitched giggles and cooing.

“Oh, Kuroko-sama must tell us how he maintains that color. I tried lightening my hair once and the results were atrocious. Surely there must be a secret?”

“Hush, don’t you see that it is natural?”

“I envy Kuroko-sama. Growing up so far away from all the stress must have been delightful.”

“I never understood why one would marry of their firstborn child, but in the face of Kuroko-sama’s beauty I daresay any other choice would have been insulting.”

“That dress is truly gorgeous. Kuroko-sama should lend us his seamstress.”

“I heard the strangest rumor, Kuroko-sama. Is it true you came back from the dead once?”

Akashi clears his throat. Instantly, the chatter falls silent.

“Apologies, Akashi-sama.” Kimiko says with another fake smile. “Pardon my companions their enthusiasm. It is rare for anything to happen in here. If anything does, it is all too easy to lose oneself in excitement.”

“It is of no matter. You may request audiences, if you wish to speak to my consort, but it is up to Tetsuya if he will grant them. Today I merely wanted to introduce you to my husband. Also, I would like to ask all of you to think about your future in the coming weeks.”

A collective gasp echoes through the room. This time it takes more than the clearing of Akashi’s throat to silence the room.

“Our future?” Kimiko asks tightly. “Surely you must jest, your Majesty. You are the determinant of our future.” This time she doesn’t quite attempt to hide the bitterness.

“I do not intent to determine anyone’s future, if it’s not their explicit wish. You all have a place here and I will see that a spot will be found for you that suits your abilities, if you so wish. Otherwise, you may choose to leave wherever you want; the palace will see that you are compensated for your time and efforts as well as your travel expenses.”

There is a beat of shocked silence. Then, “Akashi-sama is kicking us out?”

The words cause an even bigger outcry. People are talking all over each other, begging Akashi not to abandon them, shouting, yelling - the whole spectrum. Only a few seem to have grasped the exact meaning of Akashi’s words, among which Sachiko is trying to regain some semblance of peace.

Akashi merely sits there in silence, listening on as the chaos rages on.

“Enough with the jests, your Majesty.” Kimiko’s voice cuts through the noise like a knife. Yet, the effect barely lasts. “Are you saying after barely paying attention to us during the last five years, now you are just going to throw us away?”

“Kimiko, I thought you were smarter than that. Now, everyone please calm down and use the space between your ears. No one is getting thrown away.”

“Fuyu,” Kimiko says tightly. “It’s so nice of you to show your face.”

Fuyu stands leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her. She’s dressed up like all the others, but with the carelessness of someone who wears it because there is nothing else in her wardrobe.

“Akashi-sama, Kuroko-sama.” She nods her head in turn to the two of them, but doesn’t make a move away from the door.

“Fuyu-san is right.” Akashi says mildly. “What happens in your future is entirely up to you. I suggest you start thinking about what _you_ want.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Tetsuya sees fear in more than one pair of eyes. Most of these people have had their lives planned out for as long as they’ve been alive.

It takes Tetsuya a moment to realize that Akashi is gently pulling on his arm. He follows quietly, their hands dropping apart to allow for the barest of modesty as they make their way to the door. Fuyu moves out of the way without a word.

“Akashi-sama,” someone speaks from behind them.

“Saori,” someone hisses, but the speaker, a woman around twenty ignores them.

Akashi turns halfway, enough o show attention, but also quite obviously not intending on staying.

“What if what we want is you?” Saori asks. She’s standing in the middle of the room and her question is mirrored on many of the faces - _what if what we want is something you can’t give us?_

“Then, I’ll have to ask you to settle for something else.”

“So there are things the great Emperor Akashi Seijuro can’t give.” Kimiko says with unveiled contempt.

Akashi levels her with a cold stare. “I don’t need to remind you how generous this offer is.” He says, affects one last look at the room, before turning and walking away. Tetsuya catches Fuyu’s eyes - a knowing glint - before he follows.

A conversation picks up as soon as they walk away. “Calm down Kimi-chan.” Fuyu says almost fondly. Tetsuya hears Kimiko snap back a heated ‘don’t call me that’, before they are out of earshot.

For a moment he’s unsettled, Akashi’s back is tense and he holds his head in a very peculiar way, like he’s straining to look down on a world that’s bigger than him.

Tetsuya hurries to catch up. Akashi shakes his head minutely, as though to dispel whatever energy he just channeled. He relaxes visibly. Tetsuya takes his hand and pulls him in for a spontaneous kiss, uncaring if there are any eyes nearby.

Akashi’s hand is unnaturally cold, but his lips are warm and eager. Still, they are in an unfavorable place for a kiss, so they break apart after a short moment.

“That was quiet the tactical decision.” Tetsuya says a while later, after they’ve left the palace. There is a nice breeze in the air, relieving some of the oppressive heat. Inside, everything had been cool silk and air cooled by thick stone walls. Outside, the air is brooding with heat,

“What could you possibly mean, Tetsuya?” Akashi says with a very calculated innocent smile

“You upset the bee hive in order to see who will come flushed out.”

“Did anyone feel suspicious to you?”

Tetsuya thinks for a moment. “Quite a few. But I don’t have a definite yet.” Tetsuya tilts his head. “It was quite a risky move though.”

Akashi sighs. “You are right. And I apologize for dragging you into it without asking for your permission.”

“You mean for placing me as bait?” Tetsuya asks with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Akashi grimaces, well as much as Akashi ever grimaces, little more than a tense quirking of his lips. “That too. I intend to personally assure your safety.” Akashi’s eyes are warm, despite the tense lines of his mouth.

“I have no doubts about that. Although I suppose I should take offense in that you think I need your protection.”

Akashi laughs, quietly, the way he does so often recently. “Can you blame me for wanting to protect what I love?” He holds Tetsuya’s gaze for a moment before he has to look away. He wants to give the words right back, but his tongue seems to be tied still. The circumstances just never seem right. “Besides,” Akashi says, softer now, “I trusted you would understand my angle and play along.”

Before Tetsuya can reply, they are interrupted by the frantic flapping of wings. Moments later a falcon bears down on them.

It flaps its wings, circling closely around their heads until Akashi stretches out his arm and it lands. Akashi carefully pries the small folded note from the pouch strapped to the falcon’s leg. He exchanges a glance with Tetsuya before shaking the falcon back into flight. The bird screeches once and settles on a nearby tree to watch them with beady eyes. It obviously expects to deliver a reply. Its claws have left shallow cuts in Akashi’s unprotected arm, but he ignores them in favor of reading the message. Tetsuya watches his face gradually darken at the contents.

“We have a problem.” Akashi whistles lowly and the bird comes flapping down, circling over their heads as they head towards the palace. “Shintarou has found incriminating evidence. Misleading evidence as it seems, but if the court catches wind of this my hand might be forced.” Akashi’s frown is deep and heavy. “A decision I’d rather not make. We best hurry.”

Tetsuya waits until they reach Akashi’s rooms - now their rooms he supposes - before asking what exactly Midorima found. On their way there Akashi flagged down a servant to summon his guards.

“There is an old law,” Akashi explains while walking over to the window. Outside, the falcon waits patiently on the windowsill. “A rather specific law concerning a certain act of treason.”

“Affiliating with the Saitou’s former coat of arms?” Tetsuya guesses.

“Precisely. After the peasant uprising, my forbearer saw to it that everything associated with the Saitou’s former coat of arms was extinguished form the face of this world. Possession of the banner, or even bearing the sigil, was punishable by death. Now, this would not be a problem, had said forbearer not detailed that said law was not to be amended, altered or abolished, unless the entirety of the court backs the decision.”

Akashi finishes the note he’s been writing and ties it to the falcon’s leg. Tetsuya watches as he throws the bird out the window. “As I’ve said, the evidence Shintarou found was incriminating, flags and books if we go by what was left in Chihiro’s rooms. But I trust Shintarou’s assessment. If he thinks the evidence is fake, then it is.”

“What would happen if you ignored the law?”

Akashi is still looking out the window. “Nothing of consequence, likely. But with how unstable the situation’s been recently, I fear it might have unpredictable backlash.” Akashi has yet to turn around. The lines on his shoulders are tense and Tetsuya wonders just why Akashi won’t look at him.

“You are not thinking about killing these people?”

Akashi finally turns. There is a tense expression on his face, a mask of warring emotions and Tetsuya’s gut sinks to his feet.

No. The anger comes unbidden, but he welcomes it all the same. He might not have had a say when it came to Suzuki and Nakano, and maybe - arguably - they did have it coming. But he won’t allow Akashi to execute people whose biggest sin was not to notice someone stored red fabric in their basements.

“Akashi.” He takes a step forward and he has to take a moment to pull himself back from the icy edge of his conscience. It does little to dampen his anger. “How can you-“

“Tetsuya, think.” Akashi snaps.

Tetsuya snaps his mouth shut and stares at Akashi for an incredulous moment. His anger evaporates but leaves an odd disoriented feeling behind. He has never seen Akashi angry like this, if angry is even the right word. It seems like he is bleeding aggression, but it isn’t aimed at anything.

“I’m sorry.” Akashi says, sounding anything but.

“You are not going to follow the law.” Tetsuya confirms.

“Of course not. Why would you even think that?”

It is certainly a justified question, but Tetsuya merely tilts his head.

Akashi’s face softens and he looks away for a moment. Even so, Tetsuya sees the guilt in his eyes “I’m sorry.” This time he sounds like he means it. “I should not have snapped at you.”

Tetsuya evaluates his own feelings for a moment. Akashi hadn’t exactly scared him, but it was the second time today that he was reminded of the golden-eyed Akashi. He would never forget that night, that much was certain, but if he failed to even move on enough to trust Akashi to have his control, there was no point in being here, was there?

Akashi’s expression is sad, but he still attempts a smile for Tetsuya’s sake. Already, there is distance building in his eyes, as though he’s bracing himself for a rejection. He has never once told him how he felt, has he? They’re still toeing around that edge. This isn’t how he wants it to be. Akashi has done everything so far to rebuild their trust and Tetsuya has thought he was getting there.

“I promise, I won’t let innocent people die over this matter.” Akashi says solemnly. “Tetsuya has my word on this.” Akashi flexes his hands at his side. It’s obvious he wants to be close, but he doesn’t make a move. The guarded look in his eyes is painful to watch. “Again, I am deeply sorry.”

Such a fickle thing that stands between them. Tetsuya has the truth in his own hands that it is possible to overcome one’s darkness. He can’t keep waiting for Akashi to fail to control his own, can’t test him at every opportunity, because he’s afraid of what happen if Akashi fails. He really should have more trust in both their abilities.

“Do you love me?” Tetsuya asks. The door outside opens as the others finally arrive, but neither Akashi no Tetsuya look away from each other. Akashi’s surprise has smoothed out the guarded edges on his face.

“Yes.” He says and there is not a single moment of doubt or hesitation. And that’s really all Tetsuya needs to know.

“Then it’s alright.” Tetsuya says softly. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t quite feel like it but Akashi understands all the same. “I am sorry for jumping to conclusions.” He adds a moment later.

The door to the main room opens and Kise steps in, closely followed by Aomine.

“What’s going on?” Aomine asks, indifferent to the room’s tense atmosphere.

Kise on the other hand, picks up on it immediately. “Did… something happen?” He doesn’t mean a political issue, or even why they’ve been summoned. He means what is implied by the tension that is yet slow to dissipate. His eyes flit from Akashi to Tetsuya and back, worry lining itself onto his forehead. It’s a good thing Kagami isn’t here yet.

“Kise-kun, Aomine-kun would you both look away for a moment, please?”

“Eh? Okay.” Kise shrugs and turns.

“This is dumb.” Aomine mutters, but complies anyway. Tetsuya shelves the pleased feeling at being obeyed without question for later enjoyment.

Tetsuya crosses the distance between him and Akashi and kisses him. It’s short but forceful, conveying all the conflicting emotions and the _relief_ he feels that has found the strength to trust them both. What brought them here were the combined efforts of their decisions, they both have to live with that now.

Despite his surprise, Akashi reciprocates in kind, pushing in just as many emotions as Tetsuya does. When they break apart both are out of breath and Tetsuya’s cheeks feel as hot as Akashi’s look.

“You may turn around.” Akashi says with a small but very pleased smile.

Kise fixes them both with a look and then raises his eyebrows as if to say he knows exactly what they’ve been up to. Aomine just looks confused.

“So why are we here again?” Aomine asks somewhat petulantly. Just then, the door opens and Murasakibara shuffles in, Kagami is shortly behind him.

Akashi greets them both with a nod. “Alright, let’s begin.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a wise choice to send Shintarou ahead, before conducting an official investigation. Even with Suzuki and Nakano gone, his court was bound to have thrown a wrench into his attempts to resolve the matter without bloodshed.

Seijuro can’t leave the palace again without causing suspicion, especially now, as the rumors seem close to escalating. Whoever set this up has timed it masterfully. Already, rumors are spreading about his impromptu visit to the forbidden palace. He can only hope that the trap he set will bring forth fruition. As long as there is a traitor, the people dear to him are at risk - Tetsuya is at risk.

So he writes a detailed encrypted message to Shintarou and sends Ryouta on his way. He may be a bit flighty sometimes, but he can be incredibly inquisitive if he wants to. If anyone is going to find out the details from the villagers it’s him.

For now, it’s all they can do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do we have an idea of Mayuzumi-san’s whereabouts? Surely, a family visit can’t take up this much time.” Masayuki’s smile is too innocent and too pleased.

It is no surprise Masayuki brings up the matter. Someone had to, but it couldn’t be the culprit. And unless he has been obfuscating his intelligence with stupidity, Masayuki is just the perfect pawn to bait the target.

Akashi can feel a faint itch in his left eye, the urge to take _control_ spiked by the obstacles thrown in his way. He ignores it.

“I would say family matters can take up a lot of time, don’t you say? It is unfortunately in Chihiro’s nature not to divulge much, so for all we know someone could have passed away. Would you say it appropriate to infringe on a family’s mourning, Masayuki-kun?”

Masayuki shrugs, lips pulled into y very thin smile. “Your Majesty, I do trust your decision regarding Mayuzumi-san, but you have to agree that misplaced trust can be fatal, can it now? After all, what do we know about the man?”

“The situation right now is rather imbalanced.” Oshiro says slowly. “Jumping to conclusions is as ill advised as ignoring due warning.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Akashi-sama had remained at the palace.” Watanabe mutters. He may or may not have intended for the room to hear, but when Seijuro levels him with a sharp stare, he meets it unflinchingly.

“It couldn’t be helped.” Shouichi says from where he lounges on his chair.

“Imayoshi-kun, a modest fraction of decorum can be expected, even from you.” Oshiro chastise with raised eyebrows. Imayoshi only widens his smile, but doesn’t make a move to correct his posture.

“I propose we turn to matters of actual importance,” Shirogane cuts in, “instead of discussing the hypothetical whereabouts of Mayuzumi.”

Something happens then, something that slips Seijuro’s perception but has Tetsuya shift in his seat, tension drawn to one focal point. It happens for only a moment, and Seijuro isn’t even sure he’s read Tetsuya correctly, but _something_ has certainly changed. He also most likely knows what it is.

Seijuro thinks back to the conversation he had with Shintarou this morning.

_“We found flags and banners, bearing the old Saitou sigils. There were also pamphlets with anti-Imperialistic propaganda. A quite elaborate setup if I may say so. The villagers of course were unaware.” Shintarou puts a sheet of paper down on the table. White paper, expensive due to its rare quality._

_The village isn’t poor, the mine it’s been built around affords them with valuable iron ore, but no one in their right mind would waste precious paper like that. Only someone excessively rich would use something this needlessly expensive._

_Someone like him._

_“I trust you have looked into the village’s history?”_

_“Of course. The original village has been destroyed in the aftermath of the peasant uprising. It was suspected of collaborating with the rebels. Well, they have prospered even after the rebuilding, if not more due to a slight shift in location. Recently though, their deliveries of iron have fallen rather short of the estimate. The village head claims the mine offers less resources, therefore their due has decreased. The mine was inspected by your father’s orders and the veins do indeed seem to be drying out. Interestingly enough, a request has been issued recently to reinvestigate, as evidence of tampering has arisen. The mine may have yet untouched ore deposits hidden by the villagers.”_

_Seijuro taps his fingers against the wooden surface of his desk. This is more than just an elaborate ploy to force his hands into executing a village of most likely innocent people. No matter how he looks at it, that approach had always seemed too roundabout and inefficient. Even if the general populace would have objected, or even hated him, he could deal with that easily enough, taking the right precautions. Not to mention that there were ways around carrying out the sentence. It might have cost him his dignity to break an ancient law, it might have upset a lot of people, but that wouldn’t have stopped him._

_This, however…_

_“Who filed the request.”_

_Shintarou doesn’t reply. Seijuro cocks an eyebrow._

_“You won’t like it.”_

_“I’m surprised you haven’t rubbed it right in my face then.”_

_Shintarou’s face is unhappy, yet he slides over the request all the same. And there it is, the first palpable trail. Whoever filed this must have at least been connected to the puppet master._

The villagers have no motive. The incriminating evidence was hidden well, but not well enough to be impossible to find. If Akashi had conducted an official investigation, he would have uncovered the evidence, sentenced the village to death and once the ‘traitors’ had been dealt with, new evidence would have surprisingly arisen to slap Seijuro right in the face.

_“Also, we found this. Rather Takao found it hidden in the mayor’s house after Kise offered some distraction.” Shintarou grimaces slightly. Seijuro knows better than to inquire after Ryouta’s choice of distraction. The thing Shintarou has placed in front of him is much more important._

_It’s a letter, seal cracked but unmistakably the Seal of Prince Chengyi Hua Gong. Inside is a letter. His hands shake as he pulls it out and unfolds it._

_“How well hidden?” He asks, voice blank._

_“Well enough to be only found if one had a lot of time, knew where to look or had very_ keen _eyes.”_

_“Checkmate.” Seijuro says tonelessly._

As if he’d ever let it come to that.


	20. Shadow of the Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have little experience with shogi and pro tactics. I know the basic rules and some basic strategies but I can't even begin to understand the tactics Akashi would employ. So excuse the amateur character of this game.
> 
>  **Today's fun fact:** Male dolphins that live in the Amazon river have been known to penetrate each other’s blowholes. And female bottlenose dolphins use their conveniently shaped snouts as dildos on other females.

Seijuro fingers the small wooden shogi piece in his hands. Fujiwara’s king is nearly cornered; all he needs to do is place the captured rook and seal the deal. Fujiwara _knows_ he’s cornered and losing, he also knows there is no real reason for Seijuro to stall.

He puts down the piece.

Fujiwara laughs good naturedly. “You got me there. I suppose Seijuro-kun learned a few new tricks in the time since we last played.”

Seijuro regards his old mentor for a moment. “Change is essential, or rather improvement is. If I were to rely on the same strategy forever, I would end up at a dead end eventually.”

“That is certainly true. How about a rematch? This old brain of mine needs some time to warm up.”

“Certainly.” Seijuro sets up the pieces and leans back to await Fujiwara’s first move. Fujiwara makes a show of thinking hard about his move, before setting his first pawn forward.

Seijuro moves one of his pawns out of the way of his knight.

Fujiwara hums and makes his next move. Shogi, Seijuro notes has become harder without his eye. He can decipher Fujiwara’s strategy well enough and adjust his own accordingly, but the complete overview he used to have is gone. He can no longer see each conceivable move. All he can do is infer.

Still, victory seems much sweeter like this.

“Your strategy has changed quite a lot. Have you found someone else to play with? Maybe dear Kuroko-kun?”

“Tetsuya would pose an interesting challenge, but no. Unfortunately, I haven’t had time to play much at all. Fujiwara-san however seems to rely on the same strategic values as always.”

“Ah, now don’t act so dismissive. I have beaten you quite a lot with this old strategy of mine.”

Seijuro ignores the urge t blink his left eye. It used to be second nature to just _see_ , but even now he can read through Fujiwara’s movements. He’s a master player, luring his enemy into traps and striking from impossible angles, but…

The core hasn’t changed at all. It’s so familiar, this style of play. He should have noticed it sooner. Or maybe he had. It’s not something he wants to believe is true.

But it’s also not something he can simply ignore.

The smile on his lips tastes bitter. “I used to play with Chihiro quite a lot.” He says lightly.

“Mayuzumi-kun? Ah, I wasn’t aware he played.”

“Well, he certainly attempted, although he doesn’t quite pose as a challenge yet. But he has distinct potential; it would need little to nudge him in the right direction. I was looking forward to his growth.”

Fujiwara’s eyes are sharp, even though the rest of his face carries the same expression of sleepy benevolence he’s worn since Seijuro can remember. It’s even more effective now that it combines so well with the mask of an old man. “I expect Mayuzumi-kun to be back soon. He is such a loyal servant.” He picks up a pawn from his graveyard and moves it right into the attack zone of his upgraded bishop. An obvious trap, one he has to go for, if he wants to lure out Fujiwara’s defending golden general.

“He is.” Seijuro agrees and sidesteps the trap. The golden general was never even in consideration for an attack this soon. Fujiwara, of course knows that.

“He did try to kill you though. I suspect it has been quite the reason for concern among your servants.”

“Fujiwara-san was not worried?”

“I trust Akashi-kun’s judgment on the matter. And certainly Mayuzumi would know best from whence a possible attack would come.”

“Certainly. Chihiro has proven himself valuable countless times. It is curious though, that he would leave so spontaneously.”

“Is it?” Fujiwara tilts his head. “Family is important, is it not?” There is a glint in his eyes, as if he’s presenting a challenge.

“I wouldn’t know, would I now?” Seijuro puts no inflection in his words, a trick he learned from Tetsuya, and lets the words’ weight spread between them.

Fujiwara looks surprised for the first time. He opens his mouth to reply, but the words - the only words he could say in response - won’t come. His _father_ after all, never quite lived up to the term family.

Seijuro takes Fujiwara’s rook in a move that simultaneously upgrades his knight to general.

“It is not as though you are alone.” Fujiwara says thoughtfully a while later. “I have always seen you as a son.” He smiles, eyes closed and wrinkled up, the way he used to smile in Seijuro’s memories - the same memories that are accompanied by Shiori’s musical laughter.

Seijuro swallows the answer. It leaves behind the bitter taste of bile.

Silence lapses as they both focus on the game. Seijuro can’t shake the feeling that they’ve just crossed a precipice of sorts. He didn’t give a reply to Fujiwara’s words, but he doesn’t seem to have expected one.

Maybe he’s wrong. He wants to be wrong. But he knows himself too well. The more he wants to be wrong the more it is likely he isn’t.

Seijuro takes the match with a well calculated advance of his troops, cutting Fujiwara’s attempt at cornering his own king with captive units short.

“I have to say, I have yet to meet a contestant as adept at trap play as Fujiwara-san.” Seijuro says, after losing one of his generals to one of Fujiwara’s traps during their next match.

“Akashi-kun flatters me.” Fujiwara’s next move puts his king into a tight spot. “But to know a trap is there and still set it off, is quite the daunting play, wouldn’t you say?”

Seijuro springs his own trap, taking out Fujiwara’s attacking general, positioning his promoted rook down the line from Fujiwara’s king. “The outcome is what pays off the risk.” He says evenly. “Which also makes it a prerequisite that the strategy succeeds.”

Fujiwara moves his king out of the rook’s attack zone. Seijuro follows with his golden general.

“But that is the intrigue isn’t it? It would be boring if your opponent would walk into the first trap you set. The key is to weave a net thick enough until every of your opponents move leads into defeat.” Fujiwara moves another piece and puts Seijuro’s king at checkmate. “Alas, it is easier said than done.”

Seijuro wins the next two matches.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya lies sloppily spread out on the sofa in Akashi’s rooms, belly down and face smushed into one of the pillows. He’d been dragged around by Kise and Momoi while Akashi was busy with his shogi matches - which apparently take the whole day usually - and they had gone horseback riding and then Aomine had roped him into a practice match, which had attracted Kagami and then they had somehow ended up doing two on two’s with Kise in various match ups. He’d rebuilt his stamina, but the other three simply had too much vigor. And Kagami had given him quite the beating when they were on opposing sides, which was for most of the matches. Tetsuya suspects he’s done it mainly to impress Aomine who still could barely lay a finger on him.

He aches all over, sore muscles and bruises, but it’s the good kind of pain that comes with a thorough workout. It also comes with childhood memories of sparring with Kagami or one of the others, back in the days when his abilities were still lacking and he had barely the means to keep up. He’s built up so slowly, but he had steadily overcome his friends one after another through sheer determination and an insane amount of natural affinity and skill until only Kagami was able to beat him.

Despite his childhood’s many hardships, the memories he has of that time are quite fond.

The door opens. Tetsuya attempts to turn around, but his muscles complain and he gives up. He should probably be on edge, with the situation as it is, it could be anyone, but Tetsuya’s instincts give no warning. The soft fall of footsteps indicate it’s Akashi.

“Tetsuya?” Akashi pauses at the side of the sofa looking down at him. Tetsuya tilts his head. Akashi looks proper and also very delectable in his hakama getup. Even from upside down.

“Hello, Akashi-kun.” His voice gets slightly muffled by the pillow, but Akashi smiles all the same. And then, to Tetsuya’s complete surprise Akashi flops down on top of him with a tired yet pleased sigh.

“Tetsuya is very comfortable.” He murmurs into Tetsuya’s hairline.

“Akashi-kun is a heavy blanket.” Tetsuya retorts, or tries to, but his voice sounds rather strained stuck between pillow and Akashi’s weight.

“At least I’m not a wet blanket.” Akashi says drily, but rolls to the side until he has Tetsuya trapped between him and the sofa backrest.

“That would be very unpleasant.” Tetsuya comments. He wrinkles his nose. Akashi laughs and ruffles his hair, but there is a tired strain around his eyes. Like all the sleep he gets doesn’t offer a wink of real rest. “Everything alright?”

Something shifts in Akashi’s eyes, a gentle warmth appears and he leans in to peck a quick kiss against Tetsuya’s lips. “Tetsuya sees right through me.”

Tetsuya hums but still awaits a response.

“We have yet to pin down the traitor. He’s getting sloppy for sure, or maybe we are getting better, but we have yet to corner him effectively.”

“So we have finally determined their gender at least?”

“You could say that.” Akashi says thoughtfully. “Or you could say we have a really good idea who it is. Decisive evidence is yet absent however.” Which doesn’t mean that he’s wrong.

“Who is it?” Tetsuya asks. He can feel Akashi tense in his arms, just slightly, but it’s enough to notice. The warmth dissipates from his eyes and is replaced by exhaustion that doesn’t come from physical exertion. Wariness, like a great burden has been placed on Akashi’s shoulder.

Tetsuya allows him to bury his face in his shoulder and withhold the answer. He has a rather good guess on it himself. If he’s right then Akashi has all the reason to be sad.

Akashi’s hold on him loosens eventually and Tetsuya knows the tide has run its course.

“I still can’t believe I am allowed to touch you like this.” Akashi murmurs. His breath is warm and moist against Tetsuya’s skin. “Even after everything…” He trails off, eyes wide in wonder as he gazes at the hand he has splayed on Tetsuya’s chest. It’s moved by the steady rhythm of Tetsuya’s breathing. Akashi’s hand is so very warm.

Tetsuya doesn’t reply, lets Akashi run through the course of his thoughts. He gently presses his index finger against Tetsuya’s skin, then his middle finger, then ring finger and finally the pinky. Even now, the fingers Toru had broken move with a certain stiffness. Nothing to worry, Nijimura had said, the muscles just weren’t quite used to motion yet. It’ll pass eventually.

Akashi pulls his hand away, leaving an oddly cold spot on Tetsuya’s chest. There’s a strangely astonished expression in his eyes, like he can’t quite belief Tetsuya hasn’t shaken him off yet.

Tetsuya lifts his hand to put on Akashi’s cheek, but is stopped when Akashi speaks up again. “I would serve you Shougo’s head, but it wouldn’t be fair if I bared you mine.” He smiles, but the expression in his eyes is a sad one. “If anything I should serve you my head on a silver platter.”

Tetsuya thinks of another time, when he thought his brother’s head was the most Akashi could ever give to him.

“I don’t want your head. When will you finally let it go?” He asks and puts his hand on Akashi’s cheek. He’s not surprised to find him trembling.

“How can you let it go so easily?” Akashi counters. “I could have chosen a different path. I can’t ever forgive myself for hurting you. For all that I’ve done, you should hate me and nothing else.”

“Yes, it was an awful thing to do. One I might possibly never be able to forgive. But,” He levels Akashi with a determined stare, “the fault does not lie entirely with you. I had the means to stop you. I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t change that what I did was wrong.”

“It doesn’t. It merely means we both have to live with what we have done or haven’t done. I, for one don’t regret it. Please, do not try to take that away from me.

“How can you say that?” Akashi’s voice seems to tremble in the air between them.

Tetsuya smiles faintly. “Akashi,” he leaves off the honorific for once. He wants Akashi to understand how important this is. Akashi’s eyes widen minutely. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy to begin with. I decided it was worth it anyway. _Shizuka_ was worth it. And even though you - we - could have chosen a different path, I don’t regret where it has led me. My brother is dead. It still pains me that it had to end like this, yet I always knew it was inevitable. And I have come to terms with that. As I have come to terms with what you did. If it was needed to protect my niece from harm, to spare her my fate, it was worth it. I don’t regret it.”

He follows Akashi’s hand with his eyesas it moves to his neck. He moves his own hand down and joins him there, feeling the same expanse of smooth skin like on his own neck. The thin white line that is the only proof of what happened to them. He knows that Akashi has his own nightmares ever since that day. Nightmares that have quelled since Tetsuya crawled into his bed. But they are still there, prowling at the edge of their minds, waiting for a weak moment. Tetsuya wonders what colors tint Akashi’s dreams.

“I don’t regret it,” he repeats. “Maybe I’m deluding myself, maybe it’s all make-belief that lets me think I’m alright. But I can’t regret it. Not if this is the outcome of our decisions. Not if it means that Shizuka is safe and can live the life that is meant for her.”

Akashi is silent for a very long moment. He doesn’t try to hide the thoughts flitting behind his temples, but he doesn’t share them verbally either. Tetsuya waits patiently for him to work through it. He had spent enough time ruminating on their situation; it’s not an easy matter after all. He trails his hand through Akashi’s hair, weaving through the softness of the strands.

“What do you think about making Shizuka our heir?” Akashi asks after a while. His thoughts seem to have settled.

 _Our heir,_ Tetsuya thinks. Not Akashi’s heir, not Tetsuya’s, but theirs. He wants to say they can’t, because Shizuka is a Teikou and she would end the Rakuzan bloodline. But that’s not true. Akashi has no living family, his parents are dead; there are no siblings or cousins or uncles. Just him. And then there is Akashi Masaomi’s cousin - Tetsuya’s _father_ \- and dead as he may be, he also is a very real connection between them.

“She’s the heir to Teikou after me.” Tetsuya says, as if it needs saying.

“Yes,” Akashi says. “She would unite our families. Would you like that?”

Tetsuya rolls the thought around in his head. Even in his head, it sounds nice. “Yes, I would like that very much.” Tetsuya says and pulls Akashi into a kiss. It was meant to convey his feelings, joy, gratefulness, but it does a lot more than just that. Akashi melts into him as natural as if they had been doing this for years. They’ve barely done more than kissing and a lot of cuddling, yet it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“We can bring Ryouma here too, if you like. Or he can stay in Teikou as his sister’s representative. Whatever you wish.”

Really, if this is the outcome, he doesn’t regret a single thing that led up to it. Even if it was Akashi who hurt him, even if his dreams will haunt him forever, even if there still is a long road ahead of them, he doesn’t regret a single thing.

“I love you Seijuro.” He whispers into the space between their heartbeats.

Akashi makes a sound, the kind of which Tetsuya has never heard before. An odd little sound that encompasses every little thing running through Akashi’s head and heart. The kiss that follows is deep and full of emotions. Akashi winds his hand into Tetsuya’s hair, demanding yet gentle.

They shift until Tetsuya lies half on top of Akashi, their bodies pressed together intimately. Akashi has his one hand in Tetsuya’s hair and the other rests lightly on his hips. Tetsuya can feel its touch like a warm insistent pressure on his body, a source of a different kind of heat that has his heartbeat increase in anticipation. This might be a bad idea and maybe he‘s about to bite off more than he can chew, but he _wants_ Akashi, deeper, more intense than a kiss could ever satisfy.

He never felt this kind of hunger before.

Akashi being Akashi reads through him instantly. “Tetsuya,” he tries to bring some distance between them and Tetsuya lets him, albeit reluctantly. “What are you doing?” He knows what Tetsuya is doing, of course he does, but he asks all the same.

“Exactly what it looks like.” Tetsuya wants to move back in against Akashi’s chest, drink in that warmth until it consumes him, body and soul, but he needs to be level with Akashi first.

 _Are you sure_ , is what Akashi’s eyes seem to ask. His mouth has yet to work out the words.

“I’ll take the lead. That way you can be sure whatever we do is what I want to do. Besides, it _is_ rather insulting for you to presume I wouldn’t know what I am doing.”

Akashi regards him for a rather long moment, before he finally gives in and smiles. “I can’t argue with that.”

“Good.” Tetsuya says and pulls him back against him. Akashi rests his hands back on Tetsuya’s body, a warm pressure on his skin. But it isn’t enough, not with their clothes still in place. He wants to feel the heat in its purest form, wants to get closer and closer until there is not a single breath of space left between them.

Akashi’s breath is hot against his neck where he maps the skin with kisses, he’s close, so close - the thoughts are tumbling through Tetsuya’s head without focus.

He shoves Akashi off the sofa. He lands with a soft thump, caught entirely by surprise.

“Wha…?” Akashi stares at him in a moment of surprise, confusion, shock and fear all mixed in with it.

“Bedroom.” Tetsuya commands and slides off the couch. Already he is missing the warmth of their bodies mingling together. He doesn’t make to help Akashi off the floor, if he did, they wouldn’t even make it to the door. A touch and it would all be over.

The air in the bedroom is cool, or maybe his skin is just radiating with heat. Akashi follows, but pauses before climbing on to the bed after Tetsuya.

“Do you…” He starts only to trail off. “If you want to…” Impossibly, Akashi _blushes_.

“Right now, all I want is you.” Tetsuya says flatly and the blush intensifies.

Akashi exhales. Settles his eyes on a point behind Tetsuya’s shoulder only to focus on his eyes a moment later. “I have nothing to…” He makes a rather awkward hand gesture. Tetsuya is too impatient for puzzles right now, but something in Akashi’s posture tells him this is rather important.

Unbidden, he remembers the night his wedding was consummated. Someone’s hand - Midorima’s? - slick and wet touching him, and he understands. His desire, burning up until now, subsides slightly. He’s been so absorbed into his efforts of getting them closer that he forgot the most important part.

“I can’t do it anyway.” He says, careful to leave his voice even and without inflection. It is not meant to be an accusation.

Akashi smiles and sits down on the bed slowly, a distance away but facing him in an open and welcome manner. “That’s not what I was implying.” He says softly. “It is up to you entirely, but I would appreciate if you didn’t take me dry.” Akashi’s voice doesn’t waver, even though red still rides high on his cheeks.

Tetsuya blinks. It’s the logical conclusion. Obviously. But he had been so driven by his desire that anything beyond _closer_ and _want_ had been rather hazy. He forces his frantic heart to calm down. Akashi is right.

Tetsuya knows that firsthand.

Part of him wants to recoil, wants to get as far away as possible from the heat of another human being. But Akashi is not Haizaki, and he can still feel the tingle of their kiss, the flutter of his heart at the closeness. The icy grip around his heart melts and he can breathe again.

“Lie down.” Akashi says softly. Despite its phrasing it feels like a request more than a demand. “I want to show you something.”

Tetsuya complies, stretching out on his back. Akashi takes his hand and presses it against the fabric of his kimono. “You won’t be feeling it like this, but my heart is beating frantically right now.” Tetsuya wriggles his hand until Akashi lets go and pushes it into the open fold of the kimono. Even without seeing, Tetsuya finds the spot over Akashi’s heart. His skin is warm and then Tetsuya can indeed feel it. Akashi’s heart is beating fast, even though his expression shows so little beyond a blush.

Akashi leans forward slightly, Tetsuya’s hand still pressed to his heart. “We can make do, whatever you wish.”

Tetsuya pulls away his hand and Akashi collapses on top of him. They stay like that for a moment, nose to nose and Tetsuya searches for his own fear in Akashi’s eyes. He finds it, brought to the surface by Akashi’s trust and love.

In a way, it’s a first time for both of them.

Tetsuya rolls them around so that he rests on top of Akashi. He doesn’t waste words to express what he’s feeling. Instead he kisses Akashi. It’s a deep kiss. He catches Akashi’s breath as he exhales and pushes his tongue into the exposed space. It’s a new sensation, so unlike how Haizaki forced his way in, deeper and deeper until he had exposed Tetsuya to the core.

Akashi makes a small sound, like a moan but quieter, like a gasp born on throaty sounds. The heat returns and Tetsuya wants to get his hand on Akashi’s skin. He pulls on the strings tying together Akashi’s pants, impatiently and Akashi helps after a moment and a low chuckle. The pants fall open and Tetsuya pushes them down and out of the way. The kimono has fallen open, exposing the smooth expanse of Akashi’s chest. Tetsuya pauses to look at him.

Akashi is very well built. Not the bulky collective of muscles that make up the likes of Kagami or Aomine, nor the lean and firm stretch of muscles of someone like Kise. They’re smaller, more compact and Tetsuya can feel the strength that lies hidden under pale skin. Akashi shivers slightly when Tetsuya trails his fingers along the line of his collar bone and then further down to drag over the tiny round of a nipple.

“Tetsuya, don’t tease me.” Akashi breathes and it seems he tries to sound commanding but it falls short on the strain in his voice. Tetsuya smiles a wicked smile. He pushes the sleeves off Akashi’s shoulder - Akashi whose fists are bunched into the sheets, but who has promised to follow Tetsuya’s lead and who can’t touch unless Tetsuya allows him to. Akashi arches his back when Tetsuya licks over his left nipple. The nipple itself is tiny; he can barely feel its contours with his tongue, even when it hardens. But the reaction it elicits is astounding. One more flick and Akashi’s gasps turn throaty. His whole body is tense and Tetsuya can feel the heat suffusing his skin.

“Someone should know their place.” Tetsuya says lowly and Akashi shudders. It might have been the breath that skidded over his saliva-wet skin, it might have been something else, but Tetsuya is fairly sure he just found Akashi’s weak spot.

“Maybe I should make Akashi-kun pay after all.” Tetsuya murmurs, lips moving against the rise and fall of Akashi’s chest. Akashi tenses for a moment, but then he exhales and all the tension flees from his body.

“Tetsuya can do with me whatever he wants.”

Tetsuya closes his teeth around Akashi’s nipple; just enough to be felt and Akashi shudders again.

“Are you sure?” He asks and looks up at Akashi’s face, flushed red and composure fallen to pieces completely. His voice only sounds half teasing.

”Anything, Tetsuya.” It comes out barely more than a whisper.

Tetsuya kisses him again. And for a while they do nothing else. Akashi meets his pace stride for stride, wild and passionate one moment and sweet and gentle a moment later. Tetsuya tests out every tempo, wants to find the one that reduces Akashi into a quivering mess versus the one that has his own heart rate spike like crazy. He takes his time with all of them.

Eventually he breaks away for air, lightheaded and way too hot in his clothes. Akashi looks just as out of breath. Tetsuya pushes himself up to give them some space to regain their breaths. Akashi’s eyes follow his every move, bated hunger in his eyes. Tetsuya peels off his shirt, too intent on alleviating the heat scorching under his skin to care what he’s exposing. He has to get up completely to pull off his pants. Akashi is still watching him with burning intensity.

Suddenly Tetsuya can no longer stand it. He wants Akashi to touch him, more than he wants the safety of control. And it’s not that he has to give up one for the other.

“Touch me.” He whispers. “Don’t hold back, Akashi-kun. _Please_.” And Akashi obeys. He helps Tetsuya to kick off his pants and then pulls him down against his naked chest. The first contact knocks the breath from Tetsuya’s lungs as heat surges through his body, through every vein until he’s burning, set aflame by the light that is Akashi Seijuro. His penis stirs between his legs, reawakened now that they’ve cleared the space between them. He can feel Akashi’s own hardness, where it lies hidden under some remnant folds of hakama pants.

And then,

Akashi’s hand closes around him with surefire precision and the world around him goes blank. Nothing compares to this. He’s been touched before, he’s been _defiled,_ but this one touch wipes his mind clear of everything. All the strength drains from his limbs and he can do nothing more than lie there, sprawled on top of Akashi who can barely move with their proximity but whose touch still sends shivers of heat even through the burning pulse of his heartbeat.

He’s incoherent, lost in the pleasure surging through him. He’d never thought, even after his first experience when shame had tainted his pleasure, had never thought it could feel like _this_. He comes embarrassingly fast, but even so Akashi holds him through it, his voice a faint whisper against the rush of blood in his ears.

“I love you, Tetsuya.” Akashi murmurs, lips moist and warm and Tetsuya shifts his head to meet them, taste the words with his own tongue.

He doesn’t say it back, but he feels it thrumming on his skin, vibrating and pulsating as the numbing feeling of orgasm slowly recedes. He doesn’t quite have the capacity for words yet.

Akashi shifts them until they lie on their sides, facing each other. His face seems to glow with content, even though he must be still uncomfortably hard. He doesn’t ask if Tetsuya is okay. He doesn’t need to, all he needs to know is right there in the lines of Tetsuya’s face, the color riding in his cheeks and the puffs of breath spilling from lips that had just been wrapped around a strangled exultant moan at the deft dexterity of Akashi’s own hands.

“That was very pleasant.” Tetsuya says. It comes out rather flat, but he simply can’t settle on one emotion to convey at the time. There are simply too many.

Akashi’s smile is bright. It makes his eyes twinkle like a fire lit in a starless night. A warm and safe haven, a light that will always guide Tetsuya home. Or maybe that light _is_ his home. Either way, he has all the time in the world to find out.

“Of course.” Akashi says and his smirk could have popped up on Aomine’s face for all its smugness. Tetsuya has a retort ready, but the words tumble right out of his head when Akashi - still smirking - lifts his hand, the one covered in Tetsuya’s seed and licks it clean. Tetsuya stares. It should be gross, disgusting even, it should weird him out at the very least, but it angles more into being one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. He can feel his penis _twitch_ , like it is making an honest effort to harden, and that after he just came.

Akashi, obviously, knows exactly what kind of effect he has. “I take it, my service was agreeable? If Tetsuya wants to have an additional taste, he should say so.” Akashi licks a stripe down the length of his middle finger. “I might have some merchandise to Tetsuya’s liking I could offer. What’s it going to be?”

Tetsuya’s throat has gone dry. His groin is tingling slightly. Akashi, disheveled and with spit-slick lips, a sight he’d never even imagined in his wildest dreams and why would he? He never knew something like this could even exist. His emotions are all mixed up and confused, stumbling over each other as he can’t quite settle on what he wants at this moment. The possibilities seem endless, how could he pick just one?

“I can give you a taste.” Akashi whispers, close to his ear, breath moist and oh so hot. “And if it’s not enough, there is still tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.”

Tetsuya lets out a strangled sound he would be ashamed of any other moment and pulls Akashi close and into a kiss. He tastes the faintest traces of bitterness and salt, but he doesn’t care. Akashi’s tongue is clever and he doesn’t hold back at all. Tetsuya who had wanted to overwhelm Akashi, to give himself the least bit of time to think is overwhelmed instead. He loses himself in the feeling of Akashi’s taste, the nimble curl of his tongue and the irresistible push and pull of his lips.

He has to catch his breath for a solid ten seconds afterwards. He decides then he has to do something about that smug expression on Akashi’s face.

“Akashi-kun is quite full of himself.” He notes with calculated boredom in his voice. “So far his service has yet to convince me.” Tetsuya looks down at himself for added effect. His penis is drooping his head - obviously, after this short amount of time, but that’s not the point - and Tetsuya sighs exaggeratedly at its sight. “A shame, I had such high expectations...”

Akashi’s eyes are blazing. “How about you tell me exactly what you want? I promise I’ll make it worth your while?” Akashi whispers right into the shell of his ear. He knows, _must_ know what it does to Tetsuya and his carefully maintained self control. How Akashi can keep his composure so well is beyond him. And he’s the one who’s still hard.

“How about, what is the saying; you put your mouth where your money is?” Tetsuya doesn’t think he can face Aomine the next few days and not be embarrassed by the thought he just channeled him to off-set Akashi, but if anyone can rile people up with smooth swagger, it’s Aomine. Which is to say, he should stop thinking about that right now and instead focus on the very dangerous glint in Akashi’s eyes - danger that sends a hot shiver of anticipation down Tetsuya’s spine.

“What happened to putting me in my place?” Akashi taunts, but it doesn’t quite diminish the playful twinkle in his eyes. It’s odd, Akashi has the body language down, but no matter how menacing he plays, Tetsuya can still see the clear distinction between this Akashi and the one that once gave it his best attempt to break him. He’d always had it in him, like Tetsuya, he never needed the shadows to rely on.

“Oh?” Tetsuya asks with fake surprise. “Isn’t that what I’m doing? I expect Akashi-kun to deliver on his big promise.” He lets his eyes flash for a moment, lets some of his battle honed intensity slip into his gaze as he challenges Akashi.

Akashi smirks. Tetsuya comes to think it really suits him, that expression. The smirk smoothes out into a rather tender smile. “I’ll show you.” He murmurs. “How much you mean to me.” They hold gazes for a moment - Akashi poised half on top of him where he had moved during their game of back and forth challenges - and Tetsuya splayed out open underneath him.

He’d thought this would be harder. But it’s not. Not when the look in Akashi’s eyes says so much about his feelings, all walls dropped for once. Tetsuya puts all that he feels into his own expression. Even if he tried to, there aren’t any words adequate enough to express his feelings for Akashi.

Despite their earlier provocative bantering, Akashi is tender. He kisses down Tetsuya’s front, slow lines of kisses that trail and blaze but never quite reach where it burns the hottest. Tetsuya’s heart is beating wildly while his skin - cool with sweat before - is burning and tingling with every little touch of Akashi’s lips. He winds his hands into Akashi’s hair, to hold as much as to connect. Akashi, without breaking stride reaches out a hand and Tetsuya takes it, fingers entwining.

When Akashi envelops his cock with his mouth Tetsuya’s already dissolved into an incoherent mess. Akashi hadn’t held back at all, using lips, tongue and teeth until he had thoroughly mapped out the places on Tetsuya’s body where he was the most sensitive. The pressure had built slowly, insistently and no matter how often Tetsuya thought he’d reached the peak, Akashi always proved him wrong, drawing out yet another new sensation. That he doesn’t come when Akashi takes him in, is only owed to the pressure he applies to the base of Tetsuya’s cock.

Tetsuya has to close his eyes. The sight of Akashi’s mouth hollowed around his cock is too much. Every nerve feels like it’s on fire. It’s a heady rush, mad and all-consuming. And even so, even with his body strung tight and ready to spring, it still feels like it’s not enough.

It won’t do like this.

Their hands are still connected and Tetsuya can feel the tension in Akashi’s grip. It’s not that he holds on too tight, the opposite really, but Tetsuya can feel the slight tremor from his efforts to hold it in. He knows why Akashi is doing it, why he thinks he has to, but he doesn’t want to be alone in his pleasure. More than anything he wants to share with Akashi.

Tetsuya pulls. Akashi’s movements stop immediately and he pulls back to look up at Tetsuya. His eyes have a somewhat dazed look to them, but already worry is forming. Tetsuya pulls again and Akashi follows.

The kiss is wet and tastes faintly of salt, but Tetsuya is driven by an insistent hunger. Akashi, who figured out that nothing’s amiss, reaches down for him but Tetsuya stops him. He doesn’t break the kiss and uses it to distract Akashi from his next move. Instead, he reaches down between them.

Akashi tenses for a moment, kiss on the edge of breaking, but then he sighs into it. His lips fall open and his responses to Tetsuya’s tongue become rather sluggish.

Tetsuya has to admit he has no real idea what he’s doing, but Akashi could have known little more than he did and Tetsuya had nothing to complain about. So he just goes with what feels right. Akashi is hot and heavy in his hand. He moves his fingers slowly up and down, like Akashi had done on him before, but it takes a bit of testing his grip and position to get it right. He had sometimes held himself through the fabric of his pants, back in his teenage days in an attempt to take off the edge that came with fleeting dreams at the dead of night. But never like this.

Akashi lets out a chocked sound, muffled against Tetsuya’s lips and clings to his hand like it’s a lifeline. Tetsuya watches closely. He had been there, just moments before, skin flushed and breathing a mess as he had tried to hold on to increasingly tumultuous ground. Akashi had watched him then too, even while swallowing him down to the hilt.

“Tetsuya, please.” Akashi’s voice is breathless and for lack of a better word, wrecked. It’s like he’s lost all his senses at once. “ _Please,_ ” he repeats. At this point he doesn’t even try to reciprocate the kiss. “I need-“ He cuts off on a moan when Tetsuya rubs a thumb over the tip. It’s difficult, even with copying what he remembers of Akashi’s movements, even though he has a template, it is difficult to keep going steadily, to keep his mind together enough to pull them both along. He tries to take them both into his hand, but their combined girth is too much for his small palm, so he pulls on Akashi’s cock while rubbing the tip of his against the juncture of Akashi’s thigh.

And then, blessedly, Akashi’s hand finds its way to his cock and the world whitens out into the pulsing rush of blood that overtakes his senses. It’s like a wave that hits him, sweet and almost gentle in its peak, more subdued yet longer and sweeter than when he had come before. Like time and space have stretched around him to make a second last a lifetime.

There’s no strength left in him after. He lies there boneless, tangled with Akashi and not minding it the least, despite the sticky and sweaty mess they’ve made between them.

He could have fallen asleep then, regardless of the mess and everything, but Akashi kisses him soft and languidly and before long he’s hard again. This time Akashi truly takes his time, working Tetsuya up, only to pull him away at the last moment, repeatedly until Tetsuya’s mind is empty save for the pleasure and an all-consuming steady burning love for Akashi.

When he comes, it’s without a sound as his voice has gone out, but he holds on to Akashi’s hand with everything he’s got left in him.

He’s still tired afterwards, but it’s a different sort of exhaustion. His body is pleasantly numb to the bone, from workout and Akashi’s efforts, but his mind has been rejuvenated. It’s slightly sluggish still, but he feels his thoughts have a new clarity to them, like he’s watching the world through a lens.

“Akashi-kun is quite insatiable.” He says and does nothing against the dull edge of his voice. He’s surprised he can talk at all.

Akashi just smiles and kisses him and then disappears to fetch a washcloth. Unlike Kuroko, his energy seems to have completely replenished and that is, quite simply, unfair.

“Please, pay attention to me.” Tetsuya then demands, because he can and it startles a surprised laughter from Akashi, who’d been about to return the washcloth.

“Demanding Tetsuya is quite cute.” Akashi comments from inside the bathroom.

“I take offense to that. I am always cute.”

“And what can I say to that, but concede my defeat?”

“Akashi-kun should not mock me.”

“I would never dream of mocking Tetsuya. Now call me Seijuro and I’ll be your pillow.”

Tetsuya wrinkles his nose in mock aggravation. “What would the people say if they knew their Emperor withholds his pillow services to blackmail his subjects? Oh what the times have come to.” Tetsuya laments and attempts halfheartedly to throw his arms over his face. It doesn’t quite seem worth the effort to move right now.

Akashi pouts. The sight alone is enough to burn away the last of Tetsuya’s more perfunctory reservations. Kise can put on a remarkably hard to resist puppy dog face, but there is nothing that could stand in the way of Akashi’s face right now.

It’s truly unfair.

“Be my pillow, Seijuro.” Tetsuya mutters and valiantly refuses to repeat it, no matter what Akashi says. At least Akashi keeps his word and lets him cuddle up to his side, stretching out his arm for Tetsuya to rest his head on.

Their reprieve is interrupted by an insistent rhythmic knock to the outer door an indeterminable amount of time later. “It’s Shintarou.” Akashi says in explanation when he gets up and pulls on his kimono that had fallen to the floor. He doesn’t seem to mind the least that it’s all wrinkled up or barely covers up his legs. It is obvious what he’s been up to and for some reason that thought, of people knowing that he and Akashi have been together, is more thrilling than embarrassing.

Akashi walks out of the room to talk to his visitor. It is indeed Midorima’s voice Tetsuya can hear through the door. It’s rather like him to have a perfectly recognizable way of knocking. Akashi comes back after a moment. There is a hard line around his eyes and Tetsuya realizes he probably won’t like the news.

He’d been rather sore before from his workout, but now his body feels pleasantly numb from a different kind of exertion. He really does not want to move right now. Akashi leans over and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll have to leave you, but this is a matter I can’t ignore. Rest, Tetsuya.”

“Is it the traitor?” Tetsuya asks and sits up. Akashi pulls back his hand.

“Something like that. We may have found a hint to Chihiro’s whereabouts.”

“Let me-“ Tetsuya starts but Akashi stops him with a gentle hand.

“No, Tetsuya. You need to rest.”

“This is quite insulting coming from you.” Tetsuya deadpans.

Akashi just laughs. “What can I say? I will take responsibility and pamper Tetsuya to his heart’s content? After all, it was I who put him in that state.” Now if only he would get rid of that smug smile, Tetsuya would actually believe he is sincere. Still, warmth settles in his heart.

“Alright.” Tetsuya concedes, but not before he has pulled Akashi in for a kiss. “I will wait for you. I expect to not have to walk a single step tomorrow.” He adds when Akashi is halfway to the door.

“That can be arranged.” Akashi says smoothly and leaves.

Tetsuya finds he can’t quite find sleep yet. His body is tired enough, but his mind longs for some distraction. Since he finished his last book and has yet to retrieve his stack from his own rooms, there is nothing in here to tickle his fancy. He could go through Akashi’s book shelves, but he has a novel in his room he’d wanted to read for a while now.

He doesn’t quite feel up to it, but he climbs out of bed anyway. It would do good to clean off some of the sweat anyway, so he might just do all at once. Tetsuya raids Akashi’s wardrobe, as his own has only been partially moved and mostly because the thought of wearing something of Akashi’s excites him. He throws on a pair of loose pants from Akashi - slightly too wide for him, but comfortable - and one of his own dressing gowns. His hair looks a mess and he can’t quite hide the fact he’s been intimately engaged from the observant eye, but he doesn’t expect to run into anyone at this late hour.

Well, there are the guards posted in front of Akashi’s doors of course, but they ignore him with trained efficiency. Or maybe they just overlook him, although he has a hard time imagining how his presence can do anything but stand out at the moment. He still feels like he’s glowing from inside.

Tetsuya shakes his head inwardly. It happens so rarely anymore that people overlook him. His presence has become stronger without his doing. He supposes it is simply the natural course from becoming Queen.

To his surprise, he finds Ayame dusting the shelves in his rooms. He hasn’t familiarized himself at all with his new rooms, since he’s not about to use them, but he’s fairly sure that it should have seen a thorough cleanup recently.

“Kuroko-sama.” She says with a surprised smile and curtsies. “I couldn’t sleep and it always helps me to move my hands when that happens.” She explains. “I thought I might as well do something useful.”

Tetsuya accepts her explanation with a nod. He steps closer and into the light of the candle placed on the table to look for his intended book. Ayame takes in an audible breath at the sight. Tetsuya wills himself not to blush. He can’t be sure and he hasn’t checked, but Akashi may have left some visible marks on him. Even so, his appearance, sweaty and slightly ruffled, should speak for itself. It _is_ rather embarrassing.

She pulls herself together quickly and picks up her duster.

“I would like to clean myself.” He says in what he hopes is his usual blank tone. The atmosphere is kind of awkward.

“I will draw a bath immediately.” Ayame can’t quite meet his eyes.

“That is not necessary. A bowl of warm water will suffice.” He could get it himself, but one shocked servant is quite enough. She tries to hide it, but Ayame is very obviously shaken. He can’t blame her, not after what happened with Haizaki. He is fine and he doesn’t give her reason to worry, but she’s seen the results that time.

“Of course.” She bows. “Would you like if I prepare Kuroko-sama warm cocoa?” She asks at the door, almost as an afterthought.

Tetsuya hasn’t had one in a while, so he smiles and affirms. She bows again and leaves.

Tetsuya passes the time with browsing his books. He’d had a stack of books he wanted to read as opposed to those he had finished, but one well meaning soul has arranged all books in order of their topics. Tetsuya starts singling out the volumes he hasn’t yet read.

Ayame returns shortly after, carrying a large can with water and a smaller cup with steaming liquid in her hands. She places the can on a table and hands Tetsuya the cup. “Kuroko-sama looks tired. This will help him sleep. I will prepare the water.” She says.

Tetsuya _feels_ tired and at least the vanilla will calm his thoughts. He doesn’t think twice about it when he drinks it. He should have. Should have noticed that Ayame made no move after she had handed off the cup, should have noticed the cold and sharp expression in her eyes as she watches him drink.

But he doesn’t.

He has drunken this so many times before, the taste intimately familiar. Yet, when his tongue perceives the trace of something bitter and _strange_ that has no business being there, it is already too late. His throat is tingling down to his chest. Numbness is spreading and he can’t quite find enough air to fill his lungs with.

Somewhere faraway he hears the cup shatter on the ground.

The world in front of his eyes is fading. He can’t hear over the blood rushing in his ears. He doesn’t feel like falling, but he must be, because the perspective in front of his eyes tilts until he stares at the corner between bookshelf and wall. He can’t move.

Feet come into view. Dainty little feet in white socks and flat shoes, peaking from under a curtain of fine fabric. He can only move his eyes, but the angle is all wrong and he only sees fabric bleeding into blurred edges.

He feels cold.

“Burn in hell, whore.” Ayame hisses.

So cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The thing about Chihiro is, he can be a tremendous pain in the ass - he chooses to be one more often than not too - but beneath all that, he is immensely skilled. The only surprise that comes with the message Chihiro has relayed to him, is that it is as late as it is.

The existence of the message ascertains Chihiro’s safety, although Seijuro wouldn’t know where to find him. He’ll come in his own time. Chihiro hates nothing more than to have to answer about everything he does.

The message itself is short, one word. Seijuro stares at it, his mind running through a million details, pieces of a bigger picture that had always been there, he had just been too blind to see it.

 _Wisteria_.

It’s like a red thread that connects all the pieces to a whole.

It all makes sense now.


	21. Phoenix Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Today's fun fact** : Female kangaroos have three vaginas and two uteruses. Only the middle vagina is used as a birth canal.
> 
> Artistic license taken regarding the effects of Aconitum.

Toru must be laughing somewhere, Tetsuya thinks. His thoughts come muddled and slow, but the image of his brother’s face - his own face - contorted into triumphant laughter cuts through the mist quite clearly. The image of Akashi and the face he’ll make when he finds him cuts even deeper.

Tetsuya blinks, but even his eyelids move sluggishly now. The room is a blur and he can barely breathe. His head hurts or maybe that is just the whirl of thoughts. He would cry if he could. There is too much he doesn’t want to leave.

There is a crashing sound, but he can’t move to look. And then there are voices.

“What did you use?” Someone, a woman, judging by the pitch, shouts. There is a muffled thumping sound followed by a groan. “What did you give him?”

“I won’t tell.” Another voice replies. Tetsuya places it as Ayame’s. There’s another thumping sound and Ayame moans in pain. “What’s it to you? He’s better off dead.”

“That’s not for you to decide. Now, tell me. What was in that cup?”

“Try vanilla.” Ayame hisses.

“Don’t play games. If he dies, you die. And it won’t be quick.” The other woman does something then that has Ayame whimper in pain.

“Woman’s bane.” She cries out a moment later. Ayame is sobbing now. “Please, don’t kill me.”

“We’ll see about that.” The woman says darkly and then there is another outcry and Ayame hits the floor.

“Kuroko-sama, can you hear me?” The woman comes into view, a blurred shape, but he finally recognizes her.

“Shi…on.” He can barely form the word with his numb lips.

“Yes,” She says frantically. “Hold on, please you have to hold on. I will save you, I promise.” Then she’s gone again. There’s a lot of noise, sounds Tetsuya can’t place. He feels his consciousness fading. He knows instinctually that he will die if he falls unconscious. There’s not enough air and he has to use all his strength just to keep breathing.

“Give it up.” Ayame says from somewhere. Her voice sounds rather dull, as if the fight has left her.

“Never.” Shion snaps back. And then there are hands on his face and he is rolled around on his back. His head lands on something elevated and soft. “Please, Kuroko-sama. Swallow this.” He doesn’t have the strength to fight the fingers that open his mouth. And then he is chocking on something bitter. Dust fills his mouth and he tries to spit it out, but it sticks to his mouth and tongue. He’s suffocating and can’t breathe. Panic settles and he’s thrashing - or tries to, but he has long lost control over his body.

“Swallow.” Shion commands and she tilts his head back so he doesn’t have any other chance but to do as she says. The bitter taste almost makes him gag. Shion doesn’t let him catch his breath before she forces in some more. And more. Tetsuya loses track of how often he swallows it down. His jaw aches from her handling, but oddly enough, his body loses some of the numbness.

“Names really are a curse.” Ayame says suddenly. “Only it’s you they should have named Ayame. You are so god damn _loyal_.” The way she says it sounds like a curse.

Shion’s hands still. Tetsuya’s vision has cleared some, but with the angle he can’t make out either Shion’s or Ayame’s face. “Aren’t you too? You merely picked the wrong master to serve.” Shion says almost softly.

Ayame snorts. “Don’t make me laugh. Why would I ever pick him? He’s _nothing_. Just a whore who defiled Akashi-sama. ”

Shion doesn’t reply and Ayame falls silent. Tetsuya feels a new kind of exhaustion. His body is still cold and he wants to curl into a ball and sleep, just sleep until the pain goes away. Shion runs a warm hand down the side of his face. Her finger land on his neck, a gentle pressure that awakens an old fear in his heart, but it’s like someone has thrown a blanket over his emotions. He can feel his heartbeat against the pressure of her fingers. She sighs then, deep and unmistakably relieved.

“You are lucky.” Shion says and Tetsuya doesn’t quite register at first that it’s not him she meant. “You failed to kill Kuroko-sama.”

“ _Luck_ would be if you hadn’t intervened.”

“Why did you do it?” Shion moves under him and then his head is gently slid from her lap and onto a pillow. She touches his cheek fleetingly without a word that acknowledges he’s awake. He understands anyway. Tetsuya closes his eyes and finally follows the beckoning tendrils of sleep.

“Because someone had to. He’s been in the way for too long already. He should have never been given the chance to sleep with our Emperor.” Ayame’s words are quiet and far away. It’s the last thing he hears before he gives in to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seijuro stares at Tetsuya’s pale form. There are smudges of black around his mouth, remnants of the charcoal the maid - Shion - had forced down his throat.

If she hadn’t been there…

Chihiro’s warning had come too late. Tetsuya would have been dead and there was nothing Seijuro could have done. He looks up to the maid waiting next to the door. Shion’s appearance is ruffled, like she’s been in a fight and her clothes are covered in smudges of soot and coal.

The maids had filled the coal pan and left it in a corner, as the room could be rather drafty at night. If it had not been there… The charcoal had saved Tetsuya’s life, absorbing the aconite in his stomach before it could do too much harm.

Seijuro doesn’t want to leave Tetsuya’s side, but he has to. There are loose ends that need to be tied up once and for all. First, he is going to see the maid - Ayame. Her statement isn’t absolutely necessary, but it will make things easier.

“I’ll look after him.” Shuzo says with an annoyed sigh, obviously reading the thoughts that must play rather visible on his face. “You have important business to attend to.”

Seijuro ignores the urge to give Shuzo a meaningful look. It’s pointless anyway. His physician has always been unimpressed with his intimidation tactics. And it’s not that he’s wrong. He takes a moment to run his hand through Tetsuya’s hair, reassuring himself that Tetsuya is indeed alive.

He can’t count on luck to save them again. It’s time to put an end to this. But before that, he needs to inform the rest of his guard what has happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ayame stares at him balefully when he enters her room. Her crimes would afford her a prison cell in his dungeon, before her death sentence was carried out, but Seijuro has yet to question her and therefore decided to keep her close. She had been confined in one of the unused rooms on the ground floor. So far, only Shintarou, Shion, Shuzo and Reo know of what had transpired. Shion had run into Shintarou on her way to alert Shuzo after stabilizing Tetsuya’s condition. Shintarou, well aware of the fragility of their current situation, had alerted him and Reo to confine her. The guards stationed outside her room don’t know what they are guarding.

The door closes behind him and Seijuro sits down on the only chair in the room. Ayame sits on the bed, legs pulled up to her chest. She glares at him, but it seems halfhearted, as though she can’t quite bring herself to resent him. Seijuro notes it down for later inspection.

“How do you like your accommodations?” He asks conversationally.

Ayame blinks in surprise, but she seems to only suffer a moment from her surprise. “Drafty.” She says. There’s a renewed sense of wariness in her eyes now as she watches him. Good.

“Now, would you be so kind and tell me why you poisoned my dear husband?” He keeps his voice sweet and almost gentle, but she picks up on the threatening edge all the same. Ayame shivers and looks away.

“In case you misunderstood,” he says so softly she has to strain her ears to understand, “I ask you to be kind to yourself. Your only value right now is your knowledge. And I will get to that one way or another.”

He lets the words hang there for a long moment. Ayame stares at the wall, mouth drawn into a tight line, but he can see the thoughts run through her head.

Her eyes flick to his for a moment. She swallows.

And just like that Seijuro has won. She tells him everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya wakes to muffled voices. He wonders how many more times he will wake up from being knocked out cold and find a conversation going on around him. Maybe he should do something about getting knocked out cold in the first place. On that note, he has a terrible taste in his mouth, like his teeth have been coated in coal dust and come to think of it, that _does_ kind of make sense.

He has had way too much exposure to poison lately.

“Would you calm down now? He’s fine, he won’t die and you barging off on a rampage won’t exactly help that he stays that way.” The surprisingly sound argument came from Aomine of all people. Aomine, who had his hands up in the air - placating - in front of an irritated and pacing Kagami. “Now sit your ass down. Tetsu’s not going to recover sooner just because you walk a hole in the floor.”

Kagami mutter something, angry, but Tetsuya has known him for a lifetime and he can tell the edge of helplessness underneath. Kagami has never quite stopped thinking Tetsuya is his responsibility. He can’t let him think this is his fault.

Tetsuya shifts to sit up, but catches Nijimura’s eyes as he does. Nijimura is sitting leisurely in one of the chairs at the foot of the bed, watching him with lazy interest. The bed, Tetsuya realizes belatedly and of course precisely in that moment, is Akashi’s, the same one they had had sex in not so long ago.

Suddenly, facing Kagami feels like way too embarrassing. He can’t let that stop him though.

“Kagami-kun.” He calls and the hushed argument between Aomine and Kagami falls silent.

“Kuroko.” Kagami is at his side in a moment, throwing his arms around him in a bear hug. It’s a rather tight hug and Tetsuya feels his chest being squeezed fairly painfully, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Oi, Kagami, are you crying?” Aomine tries to peek at Kagami’s face.

“Shut up,” is the muffled reply.

Even though the situation is too severe for even Aomine to be an asshole about it, his reaction surprises Tetsuya. Aomine sighs, a gentle expression in his eyes. And then he puts a hand on Kagami’s back and rubs comfortingly. “I told you he’s fine.” He says.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Nijimura stands from his seat and shoos Kagami away from Tetsuya. “The patient needs rest, and I would appreciate if you didn’t squeeze the air out from him. I imagine Kuroko has quite the trouble breathing still. The effect of the poison hasn’t worn off completely.”

Kagami lets him go so fast Tetsuya almost topples over. His face is indeed faintly wet, but Tetsuya graciously overlooks it.

“Sorry.” Kagami says hastily and sits up straight. Aomine doesn’t remove his hand and Kagami doesn’t complain.

“How do you feel?” Nijimura asks.

“Like I emptied a fireplace with my mouth.” Tetsuya says honestly.

“You did, so that’s to be expected.” Nijimura says like it’s nothing. “I recommend you drink something.” He gestures to the side table where a carafe with water and a cup waits for his use. Before he can make a move to pour some water, Shion is there and fills the cup. She hands it over with a slight curtsy.

Tetsuya pauses. “Thank you.” He says earnestly. It’s not enough, just two words, how could it be enough to express how grateful he is? He drinks. Shion smiles but doesn’t speak.

“Akashi has requested you rest for the remainder of the day, as he wants to speak to you this evening.” Nijimura informs him after he has drunken two cups of water and feels slightly better. “The charcoal has absorbed most of the poison in your system so you should be fine in that regard. But you swallowed a large amount of it and it may upset your digestive system some. You should eat something before getting back to sleep, something light to help settle your stomach. Other than that a decent amount of rest should take care of any residual effects of the aconite. You were truly lucky that Shion knew what she was doing.”Nijimura pulls his mouth into a slight grimace. “If she hadn’t been there, you would be dead. Not to mention it would have been a rather messy and painful death.”

Tetsuya tilts his head. The Seirin rarely make a habit of using poison, he still knows aconite though. He had been more than lucky. “I know,” is all he says.

“Good. I would like to examine you just to make sure, if that would be alright?” Tetsuya nods and Nijimura starts his examination. He feels for Tetsuya’s pulse, checks his eyes and his tongue and then spends an entire minute listening to the sounds of Tetsuya’s chest. Afterwards, he seems satisfied. “I shall leave you to it then. If his condition changes come and get me.” He says to Aomine and Kagami, before making his way out.

“You hungry, Tetsu?” Aomine asks. He still hasn’t removed his hand and now Kagami is leaning slightly into him.

Actually, he isn’t. But that can likely be attributed to the fact that his stomach is still filled with charcoal. And the residual bad taste in his mouth. “Yes.” He says either way.

Shion makes her way to the door without prompting, but surprisingly, Aomine holds her back. “We’ll go,” he says and before anyone can react much, he drags Kagami out along with him. Tetsuya likes to think it is mostly motivated by the desire to give him alone time with his life saver, but he thinks Aomine’s desire to get alone time with Kagami might be stronger. At least he can count on Kagami being thoroughly comforted.

The silence between them feels well used and comfortable. If he thinks about it, he has never heard Shion speak as much at once as when she was treating his poisoning.

“How did you know what to do?” He asks, genuinely curious. His mouth still feels gross so he drinks some more.

Shion smiles. “I owe it to Aida-san.” She holds his gaze for a moment before looking away. Tetsuya doesn’t need to ask more. Aida has collected a lot of strays and not all of them had ended up living with him. He can’t help but be impressed that they hid the fact for so long.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Again, it is curiosity that drives the question. By the look in her eyes, she knows it.

“Aida-san doesn’t know I’m here. I came to protect what’s important to him. I owe him my life so I wanted to protect the one thing he couldn’t.” She says it so easily, as though it really is that simple. And maybe to her it really is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tetsuya doesn’t get as much rest as he or Nijimura wanted. They had tried to keep it under wraps that he was the victim of an attack, but it had still spread some. Over the course of the day he’s visited by quite a few people and since everyone just wants to make sure he’s okay, he has a rather hard time to turn them away. At least it seems that the information has been kept in the inner circle.

That doesn’t mean Kise is any less excited and quite smothering in his affections until he is dragged off by Aomine. It is a good feeling to be this loved, so Tetsuya does not complain.

Akashi appears just as the sun sinks towards the horizon. Tetsuya is alone for once, Shion had finally lost her patience and quite resolutely kicked everyone out to grant him much needed rest. Tetsuya has been napping throughout the afternoon hours and when the door to his room opens, he wakes instantly. Akashi wears a very elegant and elaborate getup as though he is dressed for his coronation all over again. In his hands he holds a coronal of flowers. For a moment Tetsuya thinks he’s dreaming.

“Tetsuya.” Akashi says softly. He reaches out a hand and rests it on Tetsuya’s cheek. There’s an expression in his eyes that’s almost too much for Tetsuya to handle. He’d been wondering why Akashi wasn’t showing his face at all, but he’d figured he was busy. The aftermath of his poisoning was bound to cause some ripples. But just now he can see how much it took from Akashi not to be there.

“I’m fine.” Tetsuya soothes. He leans forward and Akashi meets him for a kiss. “And I am not mad that you stayed away.” He says once they break apart. Because he has to say it and because he knows that telling Akahsi how much he missed him and longed to see him will only make him feel worse for staying away.

Akashi smiles. “I’ve been busy. And I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it someone’s head on a plate?”

“Almost. I figured it is time you meet my mother.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Akashi Shiori has been buried in a grove at the far back of the palace garden. Usually, members of the Imperial family are burned and their ashes are laid to rest in a mausoleum that’s been built deep into the bowels of the palace. But Shiori had always loved the gardens and her husband had granted her last wish to be buried under the open sky.

Her grave marker is a life sized marble statue of her, looking down solemnly at the world laying at her feet. Even though her face has been marred by time and weather, it is unmistakably how much she looks like her son.

A lone figure waits in the shadow of Shiori’s countenance, facing them with his back. He’s looking up at Shiori as if he were in the middle of a conversation.

Tetsuya stays back as Akashi walks the last few meters and bends to place the coronal he brought at the base of her feet. The sweet scent of sweet peas wafts through the air. A wreath of yellow Chrysanthemums has already been placed.

“Your majesty.” Fujiwara Sousoke acknowledges Akashi’s presence with a nod of his head. He’s alone, but for once he doesn’t seem to waver under the weight of time. He’s leaning on his cane slightly, but it seems more a gesture of casualness than absolute necessity.

“Chancellor.” Akashi says back. They both keep looking at the stone-made woman who looks through them with gentle indifference. Even with a weathered face, she is still beautiful. There are no pictures of her at the palace, removed at the behest of the late Emperor as he didn’t want to be reminded of his lost love. Tetsuya had never wanted to ask Akashi, not when his own mother’s face is a mere shadow in his memories.

The silence is as heavy as the tension that permeates the air. Yet it seems that both men are completely at ease. The sun is dipping behind the horizon, bleeding orange and purple all over the sky. It is one of the most beautiful sunsets Tetsuya has ever seen.

Shiori’s shadow wanders in the light of the sinking sun. It cuts right into the space between Akashi and Fujiwara, seemingly hanging there for an indefinite amount of time before it crawls towards the Chancellor. Wind picks up and rustles the leaves of the nearby trees. Another word has yet to be spoken.

“You were the last she spoke to, before she died.” Akashi says to the shadows that accumulate in the finely cut lines of stone that make up the last memory of his mother.

Fujiwara finally turns his head. He’s always been sharp, but the fading light cuts his face into even sharper angles. “She asked me to look after you in her stead. I promised her.” He says it so simply, like he still holds dear the promise he has made that day. Tetsuya watches the shadows pass over both their faces. He feels like an outsider watching something he has no right to intrude on.

“That is an odd way to keep your promise, isn’t it?” Akashi is still looking at his mother, even though her features are no longer visible in the shadows of encroaching night.

There is a long silence. Wind picks up again, dragging on the long sleeves of Tetsuya’s robe. The sun has disappeared behind the horizon but her light still reaches them.

“Do you know why your mother changed her name?” Fujiwara asks conversationally once the last traces of sunlight have disappeared.

“She was born a Saitou. Her match with my father had met some resistance so she thought it prudent to cut off affiliations.” Akashi replies. It sounds like he’s reciting something.

Tetsuya can’t help his surprise. He had known that Shiori had been considered unsuitable to marry Akashi Masaomi, had known that she was hated among the nobility, but he had never known that she was born a Saitou.

Fujiwara’s face is impossible to read in the darkness. “She was a Saitou. You should know what that means. Being born a Saitou once used to be an honor. It’s not Shiori’s fault, but yours.”

“What is to you?”

Fujiwara scoffs “Don’t tell me you don’t know what the name means.”

“I don’t make a habit of placing undue meaning into names.” Akashi sounds dismissive, but Tetsuya can read the undercurrent’s in his voice. He suspects, so can Fujiwara. Still, when he answers, he doesn’t give an indication whether he believes him or not.

“You should. Names are important. They can tell you a lot about a person.”

“Why would one rely on such fickle and arbitrary things? Or are you trying to tell me that names determine a person’s fate? I wouldn’t have taken you for one to belief in fate.”

“Oh, but it does have some merits. Or wouldn’t you say so, _Kuroko_ -kun?”

“My name was picked for me with a purpose.” Tetsuya says blandly. Even in the dark he knows Akashi is smirking.

“Surely you must have known of Tetsuya’s circumstances? Or else you would not have risked supporting my power base by mediating the marriage to such a valuable ally.”

“Valuable?” Fujiwara’s eyes are hidden by darkness, but Tetsuya still feels them brush over him. “Well, I suppose it turned out like that. Makes Naomi’s inability to grasp the value of what she had in hands all the more amusing. Not that I fared any better, did I now?”

“It seems Tetsuya is not the only miscalculation in your plans.”

Fujiwara huffs into the silence that follows. “I should have known your only open move would be a checkmate.”

“As yours would have been.”

The silhouette that is Fujiwara tilts its head. “I expected no less from Shiori’s heir. You may forgive me though; I still rather have a gutter rat on the throne than you.”

“Your game has made your intent clear enough.” Akashi says dismissively. “The only thing I want to know from you is why you thought you had the right to betray my mother’s trust.”

Fujiwara laughs, loud and derisive as though Akashi had just delivered the punch line to a joke Fujiwara’s been waiting years to finish. A joke only Fujiwara is privy to.

“I lost.” Fujiwara says once he’s calmed down. He doesn’t seem to care much about the fact.

“Your answer.” Akashi says icily.

“Does it mean that much to you? I already gave you the answer.”

“Saitou.” Akashi’s voice is steel. “ _Wisteria_ is all that it comes down to. The Saitou have always been affiliated with the Fujiwara of the wisteria field, and yet. The fact is all but forgotten today. I wonder how much support you lent to the Saitou when they fell from grace. It couldn’t have been anything of substance or else history would look differently.”

“Oh, we did offer support. But we were not foolish enough to do it in the open. Even now, we still hold our hand over them. But you did know that too. All your knowledge and yet there is so little you understand truly. Even about your mother.”

“How would I? She died before she could teach me. And you never did.”

“Did you know she was like a daughter to me? I never had children, but I had her. I would have made her heir to my name, but she fell in love with your father. I could have told her what a bad match it was, but the one good thing you inherited from her was that you never listen to what people tell you. I watched her waste away, bound to a man who could never match up to her.”

“And I killed her. Is that what you want to tell me? Lay the responsibility for her death at my feet?”

“You were a burden. Without you she could have been free. You might as well have killed her.”

“Is that all?” Akashi asks. “You couldn’t take her loss and blamed it on me?”

“I tried to love you for her sake.” Fujiwara’s anger seems to have run out. He sounds tired, resigned. “But you were too much like your father. I still tried. I valued my promise. I offered you the one thing I had to offer and you rejected it.”

Akashi sounds distant when he replies, “your niece.”

“You didn’t know, did you?” Fujiwara spits the word, but they seem hollow all the same. As though he has to believe them for his own sake.

“I did. But it made no difference, and you should have known that.”

“You could have made her Queen. She would have fortified the lineage. Instead you locked her away like a prized possession. Only you never valued what you have.”

“And what kind of value was that? You realize what the sole purpose of that palace is? I may have wronged these people by locking them away, but how much more do you think I would have wronged them if I took the one thing from them they were not free to offer at their own will? Would you have me take each as my wife? Would you have me reject every offer I got, sending all these girls and boys back in _shame_? I never asked for a single hand that was offered to me. And I will see to it that each of them can go their own way from here on out.”

Fujiwara’s shoulders finally slump. “I suppose I should have known your checkmate would leave no room for errors.”

“Life is not a shogi game.” Akashi’s voice cuts through the night like a knife. His anger is different from Fujiwara’s, colder and bitterer. He must be disappointed in his former mentor.

“It might as well be.”

Fujiwara has allies, Akashi had said earlier. But he’s the head. With him taken out, the body will crumble quickly enough. In a way he isn’t wrong.

The night air, despite the unbearable heat of the day, feels cold on Tetsuya’s skin. He almost died because of all this. To have it end like this, quietly and overshadowed by a dead woman’s gaze, it feels anticlimactic. It also feels like this is how it’s supposed to be. Fujiwara doesn’t deserve a showdown, no sparks and no heat. Just the quiet swallow of an endless night.

“Answer me one question if you will. How did you figure it out?” Fujiwara asks after a beat of silence.

“I know my subordinates.”

Fujiwara huffs a sardonic laugh. “You owe me more than that.”

“I don’t owe you anything.” Akashi almost spits the words out. It’s the first time he shows any advanced form of emotions since the confrontation began. “But I shall indulge you. In honor of a good game. I knew there was a puppet master from Tetsuya’s and Shouichi’s account of the traitors’ meeting. I knew he was on the move when Chihiro disappeared. The trap, it was all rather well placed, I give you that, but easily seen through. Chihiro happens to be color blind, so there was no way he would have a red flag _and_ know its meaning.

“But of course, your traps have more than one layer. You figured I would see through it, although it would sow suspicion. Unfortunately for you, I know for a matter of fact Chihiro would never betray me so I didn’t waste any time mistrusting him.”

“I see.” Fujiwara huffs quietly. “He wanted something from you, didn’t he? He’s the kind of person who only follows his own desires, so surely there must have been something you could offer him. What did you promise him?”

“That is not for you to know.”

“Fair enough. How did you figure out the village was a trap?”

“That was obvious. All you ever do is laying traps.”

“But you didn’t know it was me.”

“At that point, no. But the style of play was familiar. I sent in a covert operation to uncover the truth. I guess this was the first time I actually did throw a wrench in your plans.”

“Not quite, but I suppose you found out about my affiliation with Chengyi.”

“Yes, from that point onwards I knew what I was dealing with. And there are only a choice few people who have the mind of a chess master to pull it off.”

“When we played, you already knew.” Fujiwara accuses.

“It helped that you left a tangible trail.”

“I did?”

“Well, your assistant did. He filed the request for a reinvestigation of the mine. I suppose you never intended for me to find it, before it could come to use. Or maybe your assistant failed to use his head. It doesn’t matter. Your plan would have fallen through either way, the moment Ayame attempted on Tetsuya’s life.”

Fujiwara laughs again. The sound sends shivers down Tetsuya’s spine. “I should have known that women would be my downfall.”

“I don’t expect the iron ore trail to Cathay was the last ace up your sleeve.”

“Of course not.” Fujiwara’s smile seems to cut even through the shadows of the night. “But I was cut short before I could bring my best piece onto the board.”

“You could have come after my life.”

“Oh, but I did, didn’t I?”

“You knew Suzuki and Nakano would fail.”

“Obviously. But they were useful for a time. And I could gauge your defenses through their failure. Although dear Kuroko-kun messed with my plans quite unexpectedly. I decided on a safer course of action. You never responded well to violence. That has changed now hasn’t it? Your game has lost quite a lot of its sharpness.”

“And yet I have won.”

“I can concede as much. It was a masterful game you played. Even at the end.” Fujiwara tilts his head. “You should know, it was never my intention to simply end your life. See it as my last favor to your mother. I challenged you to a game you could hardly lose. Time was always on your side.” Fujiwara’s smile is bitter. “I would have lost eventually. I simply wanted to see if I could take you down before my time runs out.”

“You think you would have won, if it weren’t for Ayame’s interference.” Akashi states. He seems lonely there, in the shadow of his mother’s grave. But Tetsuya feels that this is a moment he has to bring to its closure on his own.

“I believed I could. But…” Fujiwara sweeps his gaze over to Tetsuya for a moment. “I underestimated your pieces.”

“And overestimated yours.” Akashi adds almost thoughtful.

“You want to know that badly?” Fujiwara’s smile is cold. “You should have enough proof for my treason. Or is it that you don’t and you desperately want my confession on ordering an attempt on your husband’s life?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Ah, but you can’t know if Ayame wouldn’t lie to take the fall for me.”

Akashi doesn’t reply. He isn’t even looking at Fujiwara anymore; instead he is staring at something hidden in the darkness surrounding them. Tetsuya can’t help but think of the other Akashi. How differently he would handle the situation.

“Ayame was the kind of woman who would take the meaning of her name literally.” Fujiwara eventually says. “And she was indeed loyal to a fault. She was Kimiko’s maid you see. But when you sent her into your rose trap, she found herself without direction. So I offered her a position in court. What a blessing that the palace maids rotate service in the forbidden palace. It came in quite handy to monitor Kuroko-kun. She swore me loyalty in exchange, but I guess her true loyalty always lay with Kimiko.”

Tetsuya thinks of the woman they encountered in the forbidden palace not so long ago. The jaded edges in her eyes. He’d never guessed her hand reached that far.

“Your last deed is to blame your niece?” Akashi asks with a mocking undertone. He finally looks at Fujiwara. The moon has risen a pale sickle in the dark of the night and its light spills over his face and Tetsuya sees the brilliant red of his eyes. There’s a hint of sadness there, but Akashi makes no attempt to hide it.

Fujiwara makes a rather inelegant sound. “How little you understand. Even now. Why do you think I offered my dearest niece to you? After I’d seen what Imperial marriage had done to Shiori. She loves you. Or at least she did. I hope she has learned her mistake at least. But it wasn’t her that ordered your husband’s death. If she had, Kuroko would be dead.” He says it with finality.

Akashi tilts his head. There is a smile etched on his lips, sharp edged and cold. Tetsuya’s fingers itch to touch his scar. He doesn’t.

“We shall see what Kimiko has to say on the matter.”

“You have locked her away already. Don’t make her pay for something that was out of her hands.”

“You of all people have no right to ask me that.”

Fujiwara hums almost thoughtfully. “I guess not. But I wasn’t asking.” There’s the rustling sound of movement as Fujiwara pulls something from his sleeve. Akashi makes a sound then, low in his throat, almost like a hiss.

“Nice, isn’t it? It is a present from Prince Chengyi as a sign of his good will.”

“Of all people to align yourself with.” Akashi says with disgust.

“Oh, I don’t plan on keeping Chengyi as an ally. But as you can see his country has access to superior weaponry. Rest assured that I have taken precautionary steps to make sure Chengyi won’t use their superiority against us. It is a shame that you never quite cared about our neighbors. But arrogance has always been a vice of your family.”

A cloud that has been drifting in front of the moon disperses and the pale light reveals something metallic and oddly shaped in Fujiwara’s hands. It seems to be some sort of rod connected to a handle. Fujiwara has it pointed at Akashi, whose eyes have a severe look to them. But even so, he keeps his stance outwardly relaxed. Tetsuya has never seen such a thing before, but his instincts tell him that it is dangerous.

“You are presuming.” Akashi says flatly. “I have to admit though; I have never seen a gun up close before. Last I heard its precision does not live up to the effort. And it becomes useless after just one shot.”

“It serves well enough on short distance.” Fujiwara smiles, cold and calculating. “And one shot is all I need.” His smile widens and then he shifts his arm to aim at Tetsuya. “I’d rather you live and watch your Empire crumble to pieces.”

Akashi’s eyes widen a fraction and he takes a step forward, involuntarily as if drawn by string. The “no” dies on his tongue as an impossible loud sound tears through the air.


	22. Pieces of a Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Today's fun fact** : Red-sided garter snakes have the biggest gangbang parties in the animal kingdom. When the females release a hormone that signals their maturity, all the males in the vicinity come and pile on top of the female in an attempt to inseminate her. Some sneaky males also release the hormone to build their own snake piles in order to leech of body heat.
> 
> This is the last chapter of the story. After this there will only be an epilogue and then we're done. It's been a wild ride and it's been fun and terrible to write this monstrosity and it has given me so much pain but it was worth it. I want to thank all of you who read and supported this fic, I wouldn't have been able to get as far without you. Thank you.

Tetsuya sways on his feet. Something has blown past him, a whistle of wind so sharp it cuts the air. Its path has been deterred, the movement of Fujiwara’s arm jarred by the arrow protruding from his elbow. The force of it, if it had hit him, would have been enough to take him out, Tetsuya is sure of that.

Fujiwara has dropped his gun and is clutching his elbow, eyes wide in shock. Akashi pays him no mind as he rushes over to Tetsuya. “Are you alright?” Akashi cradles his face in his hands, worry lining around his eyes. Tetsuya has never seen him this frantic. “It didn’t hit you?”

“It missed by a narrow margin.” Kise’s voice sounds from the darkness. A moment later he steps into the narrow field of view the moonlight provides. “It almost hit Aominecchi though.” Kise’s cheer seems to be stretched rather thin, as though he’s very close to snapping. The way he looks at Fujiwara, kneeling on the ground while blood seeps through his clothes spells how angry he is.

Aomine follows closely after and then with a bit of delay Murasakibara and Midorima, the latter of which still clutches his bow. Kagami appears a moment later, vibrating with the sort of repressed anger Tetsuya is all too familiar with. It is a testimony to the trust that has developed between all of them that Kagami didn’t come barging in at the first sign of danger.

“How…?” Fujiwara grits out. The arrow, Tetsuya can see, has hit right into the space between bones, rendering the arm useless. He has seen Midorima shoot at unmoving targets with unwavering precision, but this is something else entirely.

Akashi’s hands are warm on the chill of his skin. His voice, however, is freezing cold. “How would you say again? I had the better pieces on the board. It’s as simple as that.”

“Don’t think it is over.” Fujiwara snarls. The pain has etched deep lines into his face and he seems to have lost his grip on his composure.

“But it is.” Akashi says solemnly. Kise pulls something out of his sleeve at his sign and drops it at Fujiwara’s feet. Fujiwara stares at it in abject shock. His mouth is working but there is no sound coming out. In front of Fujiwara lies a crumpled up letter. The remnants of a seal cling to one side, but it’s not the only red that mars the white of the paper. Blood has seeped into it in one corner.

“As of this morning, Ling-Yan has been officially named heir to the Cathayan throne. Prince Chengyi has been removed from the line of succession.” The way Akashi says removed, doesn’t make Tetsuya think of pacifistic measures.

“No…” Fujiwara clutches the paper, smoothing it out almost desperately.

Akashi’s eyes glitter in the darkness. “To think you would sell your niece to fortify your alliance.”

“She would have become Empress.” Fujiwara snarls. “What she deserves to be. What _you_ denied her.”

“And yet you claim you act out of love for her.” Akashi says evenly. “The Emperor of Cathay was not amused that his nephew would seek to undo his betrothal to Princess Ling-Yan in favor of a foreign concubine. He decided that his relations with us are worth more than the antics of his unruly nephew, heir or not.”

“He would never choose _you_ over his own flesh and blood.” Fujiwara spits out.

“He didn’t have to. Chengyi was not of his blood as he had been adopted by his brother in an act of mercy. He did have some commendable skills, but I suppose covertly killing his brothers - and contenders for the throne - in addition to work on overthrowing everything his uncle has worked for does open up some reason for contempt. It also leaves quite a vacancy. Ling-Yan however is a distant cousin of the Emperor’s late wife. A fact neither of you took into account I presume. The Ran have a rather undistinguished reputation after all.”

Fujiwara crumples. “So that’s how it is,” he says hollowly. “I really do owe your mother an apology.”

“She won’t be where you are going.” Akashi sounds tired now. Tetsuya offers the only comfort he can right now, leaning into Akashi and squeezing his hands where they are connected. He can feel the suppressed anger in Akashi’s touch.

“No one is without sin.” Fujiwara seems to have resigned to his fate. He doesn’t try to resist when Murasakibara drags him to his feet and ties his hands behind his back. He only makes a sound when Murasakibara yanks out the arrow shaft. Tetsuya does not feel a hint of pity for him.

“Some sins merely weigh heavier than others.” Akashi replies. Tetsuya thinks he is the only one who notices the hint of bitterness.

Murasakibara yanks him away, but Fujiwara resists one last time. “Don’t think you have won anything. The world outside your little dream is moving on and it will catch up to you eventually. You can’t defend against progress with relics of the past.” Only then does he let Murasakibara drag him away.

His words, oddly enough, sounded, genuinely like a warning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seijuro stares out the window. It’s been hours since Fujiwara’s apprehension. It’s now the middle of the night, but he simply can’t sleep. Tetsuya had retired soon after the confrontation, still suffering from the aftereffects of his poisoning. Even with Tetsuya in his arms, sleep had not come to Seijuro.

He had trusted Fujiwara. The _other_ him had trusted Fujiwara.

The night outside is dark, stars blanketed by a layer of clouds. A part of him absently notes that it will likely rain tonight. It will be a short summer shower, barely enough to soak the ground. The gardeners will have to water the plants again. Seijuro sighs. The weather isn’t exactly what should be on his mind right now.

Fujiwara had taught him much of what he knows. There had been a time when he had thought of Fujiwara as more of a father than his own. Some of that had changed when he’d let his other self take over. But even then, he had still felt respect.

Now, he feels like someone had removed an essential part of his self. He had trusted Fujiwara. And yet, as soon as the evidence had arisen he had no difficulties believing it true. What this says about his general ability to trust, he has yet to figure out.

He doesn’t want to figure it out. He doesn’t want to think about it at all. How easy it is to cut ties with someone who has been part of his life since birth. And maybe he has to think like that, because he can’t afford to think about what it means that he has been betrayed by one of his most trusted friends.

Already, his left eye is itching incessantly, as if to remind him there is a way out. If he didn’t feel so heavy, Seijuro would have laughed. Laughing, if only that meant he could relief the pressure in his chest. The tears simply stay stuck in his throat.

“You can’t sleep?” Tetsuya’s voice startles him.

Seijuro turns to see Tetsuya lean against the door, arms crossed and hiding a million different emotions behind his blank eyes.

“You should go back and rest.” Seijuro says, because it’s the only safe thing he _can_ say in that moment.

Tetsuya makes a point of rolling his eyes. “I don’t want to hear that from you.”

“You’ve just been poisoned.”

“And you have just lost your oldest advisor.” He shouldn’t be surprised that Tetsuya aims right for the heart of the matter. He shouldn’t be surprised that while everyone else dodged around the matter - Midorima giving him a rather pointed yet worried glance, being the sole tentative exception - Tetsuya isn’t afraid to poke at the wound.

Seijuro leans back against the wall with a sigh. He can’t argue with that, can he?

Tetsuya walks over at a slow pace, as if he is deliberately measuring the distance between them. As if he wants to give Seijuro time to prepare or maybe to run away. Or maybe he needs to prepare himself.

“And I guess you almost lost me too.” Tetsuya says so softly the words are almost lost in the space between them.

“Tetsuya…” The pressure from his chest has spread to his throat. He tries to swallow, but the lump in his throat makes it almost impossible to do so. But Tetsuya is there, slipping his arms around him in a comforting hug. Seijuro rests his face against his shoulder, lets the warmth wrap around him.

Part of him wants Tetsuya to say something, to assure him that everything will be okay. But he knows that there are things Tetsuya can’t promise him. And Tetsuya is not the kind of person to offer empty promises.

It’s not Tetsuya’s responsibility to pick up the pieces.

Tetsuya holds him to his chest for what seems like hours. Outside, the gentle patter of rain starts a gentle rhythm, only to stop moments later. As though the sky has shed the tears Seijuro can’t.

“I wonder if my father was right after all.” Seijuro murmurs after a while. He didn’t plan to speak at all but the words just come, pushing past the lump lodged in his throat. Maybe he has sat on them for way too long. “I was groomed to rule, but my father always thought me unfit to become his heir. With my mother’s early death there was not much choice to be had.” Seijuro chuckles drily. There had never been much love between him and his father; the situation had only worsened after Shiori was no longer there to mediate.

Tetsuya moves back slightly to look at his face. His eyes are calm pools of blue, but for once Seijuro finds little comfort in their depths. It’s like he’s looking into a mirror, reflecting his thoughts and fears back at him.

“You don’t truly believe that.” Tetsuya says and it doesn’t seem like he’s questioning the fact.

Seijuro huffs what was supposed to be a laugh but falls somewhat short. “Why can’t you just lick my wounds?”

“You wouldn’t want me to.”

Seijuro sighs. “You’re right.”

“I know.” Tetsuya deadpans. Something is off about his voice, but Seijuro is too exhausted to keep track of it.

Tetsuya is still holding on to his arms loosely, but it somehow feels as though the distance between them has widened. He tries but still fails to look through the screen in Tetsuya’s eyes. There’s a moment when Seijuro thinks he’s lost Tetsuya, that something he did has caused Tetsuya to retreat but then he realizes that it’s not like that at all. The lines on Tetsuya’s face are deeper than usual, and what Seijuro thought was distance is merely exhaustion that clouds Tetsuya’s eyes.

“You’re not alright yourself, are you?” Seijuro asks gently, bending down slightly to meet Tetsuya’s gaze on eye level.

Tetsuya sighs and it’s as though someone released all the tension at once. “I couldn’t sleep myself. I guess you never really get used to almost dying.” Tetsuya sinks forward and Seijuro accepts him into his arms. Now that he knows what to look for, he can see all the small signs of exhaustion. Tetsuya hides it well, even now, but Seijuro is used to look deeper than the surface.

“How about for once we don’t try to be strong for each other?” Seijuro offers with a small smile. It’s a weak effort, but that’s not what matters.

“If I can’t be strong for you, I can’t be strong at all.” Tetsuya says flatly.

Seijuro lets the smile slip from his lips. “That’s okay. Right now, I can’t be strong either.”

Tetsuya tilts his head, measuring him up for a moment before he matches his earlier smile. Just for a moment before he rests his head back against Seijuro’s shoulder. Together they sink to the floor, supporting each other as much as themselves. Seijuro holds on to Tetsuya while Tetsuya does the same to him. And it’s just that, the two of them holding on to each other, grieving or wrestling with memories or maybe both.

And for now it’s enough.

Even if they didn’t pick up any pieces, even if all they did was preventing the cracks from widening. It is enough. The heaviness in Tetsuya’s eyes tells him that the road is a long one, that just because the nightmares have lessened, the memories haven’t become any easier to bear.

It’s enough, because tomorrow he can be strong again. It’s good that Tetsuya is there, but he can’t pick up the pieces for him. Just as he can’t carry Tetsuya’s burden for him.

It’s enough.

It’s enough.                                      

It’s…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The answer, if there was even one to be found, yet eludes Tetsuya the following morning. He feels drained after a night of barely any sleep. Being reminded of how feeble his mentality - sanity even - is, had taken its toll. He doesn’t wake that morning as much as he drifts out of the perpetual state of mind floating he’d spent the remainder of the night in. He’s wrapped in Akashi’s warmth and that fact alone lifts some of the burden on his heart.

He takes a bath at Akashi’s suggestion. Ayame’s absence leaves an odd little hole in his maids’ routine, one Sumire desperately tries to make up for, with cheer that doesn’t feel natural on her usually stern face. Shion is a blessedly calm presence. They’ll be alright, the two of them.

Tetsuya soaks for at least an hour, letting his mind float on the pleasant warmth surrounding him. By the time he climbs out of the bathtub he already feels much better. Still tired but the weight on his mind has lifted.

Back in Akashi’ living room a surprise awaits him. A space has been cleared to set up low tables and mats for a traditional breakfast serving. Akashi is already kneeling at one of the tables, smiling up at him when he enters. His face can’t quite hide the tiredness, but his smile is brilliantly warm.

“Good morning Tetsuya.” Akashi greets.

Tetsuya pauses before he sits down. “Akashi-kun has already seen me today.”

Akashi just shrugs and then, to Tetsuya’s surprise, he scoots over to pour him some tea.

“Is today a special day?” Tetsuya accepts the tea cup, steaming and emitting a delicious scent. It’s green tea, suffused with a sweeter note, a little bit like lemon.

Akashi chuckles. “Would you hold it against me if I told you every day with you is special?”

Tetsuya hides his smile behind the steam rising from his cup. “Not necessarily. But I’d say this is not the reason for you serving me tea. And breakfast. Not that I am complaining.” Tetsuya takes a sip from his tea. It’s still a bit hot, but the flavor has mixed nicely with the lemon.

“I have not many memories of my mother, outside of what people told me.” Akashi starts after a moment. Tetsuya clasps the warm cup in between his hands, lets the steam billow in between them for a moment, before tilting the cup to drink.

“One of the things I do remember is that my mother would always make me a cup of tea in the morning after I had a nightmare. I never told her that I had one, she just always knew. So whenever I had a bad night, there would be a cup of tea with lemon and honey waiting for me.”

“So this is you picking me up from a bad night?” Tetsuya asks with a tilt of his head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides,” Akashi lifts his own cup, “I am no longer six years old, neither are you. Problems won’t go away just because we drink a nice cup of sweet tea.”

“No.” Tetsuya agrees. “But everything looks different in the morning.” Different doesn’t mean better, but it’s a start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Kimiko’s voice is curt and she keeps her eyes straight ahead. Akashi surely must have picked up on the slight waver in her voice though, just as Tetsuya had.

Akashi tilts his head marginally; keeping his face the same casually interested expression he has carried the whole time of their visit. They are in the forbidden palace’s tea room. Most of the concubines had made a decision on where their life from here on out would lead them. Some had asked to stay; some had asked to return to their families, some had left to find their own way. And some remained, yet unsure where they wanted to go or what they wanted to do.

The forbidden palace, as it is, is no longer forbidden. It is just a palace within a palace, with ivy infested walls and echoes of past splendor.

Kimiko had refused to even think about her future. She had nothing to do directly with Ayame’s attempt on his life, but she had been involved all the same.

“If you are saying I would attempt on Kuroko-sama’s life…” The silence has stretched too long and Kimiko is driven by her agitation to intercede.

“I wasn’t insinuating you would. Although certain responsibility lies with you, or was it not on your behalf that Ayame bullied Tetsuya?”

For a moment Tetsuya is sure Kimiko is going to snap at them, but she takes a deep breath to calm down. “On my behalf and at my orders are two different things. I may have voiced my displeasure at Akashi-sama’s choice of bride, but that’s that.”

Akashi doesn’t sigh, but Tetsuya can tell that he would have, were the circumstances different. He’s disappointed. He’d hoped that Kimiko would at least confess to her involvement. But then again, confessing to one thing would easily lead to assuming she had taken part in the bigger crime.

“It does matter little ultimately.” Akashi says calmly. “There is no point in punishing you any further than this. I extend to you the same offers that I have to all my other concubines. You are free to go wherever you want to go. I’d recommend however you not stay here, although I won’t interfere if you decide you want to.”

“What do you mean? What punishment?” Kimiko digs her fingers into the armrest of her chair. “You haven’t done anything to me, what do you mean?”

“You and your uncle were quite close, I gather?” Akashi asks offhandedly.

Kimiko pales. She opens her mouth, looking for a moment as though she is going to snap. But before it can come to that, Akashi levels her with a pointed look and all of the fight flees from her body. She swallows once and looks away. “So he did get what was coming for him.” She says with a hint of bitterness.

“You may have not been involved in the attempt on Tetsuya’s life, but I could charge you for treason all the same. You knew of your uncle’s plans and chose to remain silent, isn’t that so?”

Kimiko’s smile is sharp and bitter. “Nothing goes past you, Akashi-sama. I’d say I don’t know what you are talking about, but what would be the point? Uncle taught me shogi, did you know that? I know when one has been backed into a corner without retreat. Besides, there is little at this point I would wish to hide from you.

“I am tired of living like a bird. I am tired of clinging to feelings that have waned a long time ago, just to get through the days.” She levels her eyes on Tetsuya. “It’s your win. I concede my loss.”

“Thank you.” Tetsuya says blankly.

Kimiko scoffs. “I never was any contest, so please, don’t attempt to flatter me.”

“I would never dare to.” Tetsuya blinks.

Kimiko rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe I lost to that.”

“You didn’t lose.” Akashi says with a certain amount of amusement. “You never even played.”

She laughs, but oddly enough, it doesn’t seem bitter, more like pressure has been released after a long time of build up. “I did love Akashi-sama. A long time ago. I guess you wouldn’t be wrong to say it was my fault that it ended up like this. My father was delighted when I asked him to offer you my hand. I had refused every marriage until then, I was getting old. But uncle wasn’t happy. I had to beg him as the head of the family. When he gave in, I was the happiest I ever was. I thought then that I had everything. Not just because I could be Queen.”

She smiles ruefully. “But this place has a habit of sucking the dreams right out of you. I was one of the first. I saw the others come here with their dreams and hopes and I saw them all crumble to dust. How many do you think tried to kill themselves? How many succeeded? Not that you’d care about any of that.”

“I do.” Akashi says softly.

“Is that so? It’s too late now. Those who have died are dead now. And the rest has to live with their withered dreams. Those who left are the strong ones. They may make it outside this golden cage. The rest will wither and die eventually. You say it is our choice so easily as though any one of us ever had their own free will.”

“Don’t be so dramatic Kimi-chan.” Fuyu stands leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Pardon the intrusion, but I figured the interrogation has been going on long enough. If you may, I can attest to Kimiko’s innocence in certain matters, not so much in certain other matters.” The last part is said with a rather suggestive tone of voice.

“I guess you both have found your way.” Akashi concludes after watching them intently for a moment. Fuyu merely smiles while Kimiko hides her face behind her sleeve in mortification.

“Still,” Akashi is serious again, a hard set around his mouth. “I will require your oath to never make a move against my family again.”

Kimiko sighs and drops her arm. She still has slightly red cheeks but the color is rapidly fading. “I can give you more than that.” She reaches into the folds of her robes and pulls out a small rectangular box. “Uncle sent this to me recently. I suppose he had an inkling of what was coming. Take it. I no longer require it.” She hands the box over to Akashi. Inside is a seal ring with the Fujiwara family crest etched into the metal.

“And that’s how one prestigious family comes to an end.” Fuyu comments drily.

“I am the last one, unless you plan on exonerating my uncle.” Kimiko smiles sardonically. “And I am not going to have any children any time soon.” She throws a look at Fuyu, who winks back, before turning her attention back to Akashi. She’d seemed like such a hard woman the last time Tetsuya had seen her. Jaded and bitter. Now her eyes are clear, sad maybe, but no longer resembling chips of ice. It’s easy to trace the change to Fuyu, who still hasn’t moved an inch from the door, but who looks at Kimiko with such a soft and fond expression.

Everyone has their own story. Even when Tetsuya feels he can’t quite breathe with the pressure of his memories, when he sometimes feels that he’s made out of glass and could crack at the barest of pressure - even then the world keeps turning and stories keep being told. It is comforting in a way.

Akashi looks at the ring in his hands. Tetsuya can’t see his face at the angle but he knows either way what Akashi must be thinking at the moment. The seal is in the shape of a wisteria blossom.

“I assume you will be leaving us?” Akashi asks.

“Yes.” Kimiko responds. “Don’t bother asking where. We don’t know.”

“I shall see to it that funds are provided for the two of you.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Fuyu says. She finally moves into the room to stand behind Kimiko, resting her hands on the other woman’s shoulder. “At this point we’d be grateful to never receive anything from you again. Even if you might argue you owe it to us.”

“I see. Then I wish you both farewell.” Tetsuya follows as Akashi stands up ad makes his way towards the exit.

“One more thing.” Kimiko says just as they are at the door. “Is my uncle dead?”

Akashi turns and makes eye contact. He doesn’t say a word. Tetsuya tries to read the answer from Akashi’s face, but unlike Kimiko he can’t. He didn’t ask before and he won’t in the future. This is a burden he can’t carry for Akashi. All he can do is offer his quiet support.

Kimiko’s jaw works for a moment but she doesn’t say anything.

“Farewell, Akashi.” She says quietly once they are out the door. Tetsuya does not look back but he knows even so that she is crying.

Still, he has chosen this path and he won’t stop until he has picked up all the pieces. And after that, he’ll give it his whole to hold everything together. He can do it, he believes, if only he has Akashi at his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The carriage comes to a jarring halt, almost jolting the book from Chihiro’s fingers. Someone knocks against the door and Chihiro closes the book to disembark. The capital city of Rakuzan stretches out in front of him, bustling and busy as ever.

He had thought about - not just on a whim but seriously - staying away. Even if Akashi came after him he knew how to evade him. Being his attendant was way too troublesome, but in the end he couldn’t. There is still something he needs from Akashi.

And until he hasn’t received his proof, he is going nowhere.

Besides, he owes Fujiwara a payback for all the trouble he had put him through. Even if he’s likely too late to see more than the aftermath. Chihiro doesn’t quite like to have unfinished business.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is either the best or the worst thing that has happened to us.” Ryouta says with a small pout. He could dodge Kasamatsu-senpai’s incoming hand, but he doesn’t, even though the whack upside his head hurts quite a bit.

“Don’t space out.” Kasamatsu-senpai reprimands and shifts back into his fighting stance. But even he can’t keep his eyes off the obvious tension between Aominecchi and Kagamicchi. They’re still not matched evenly, but something has changed. Ryouta gets downed a moment later by one of Kasamatsu-senpai’s sneaky moves, and he has to listen to the extensive lecture that follows afterwards.

He doesn’t mind the least. Kasamatsu-senpai will treat him to dumplings later - ignoring the fact Ryouta could easily get them on his own with his charms - so it’s all well in Ryouta’s book. And if Kagamicchi could have easily withstood Aominecchi’s attempt at bringing him down with him but doesn’t, and they end up on top of each other, it’s just as well.

“Come on, we’re not done yet.” Kasamatsu-senpai orders, but when Ryouta gives no indication of moving anytime soon from his spot on the ground, he flops down next to him. “You’re going to run extra laps to make up for the break.” He mutters for good measurement.

Ryouta thinks of Kurokocchi sleeping on Akashicchi’s shoulder, the way he was when Ryotua went to challenge him to a practice match earlier. Akashicchi had pressed a finger to his lips and resumed reading through the files in his hands, a soft expression in his eyes, a sight still so new it had baffled Ryouta. He thinks of the soft sight Kurokocchi had let out then, before shifting and snuggling closer to Akashicchi‘s side. The floaty feeling is still in his chest. “Are you happy senpai?”

Kasamatsu-senpai grunts. “What’s gotten into you now?”

Ryouta smiles at the sun shining bright above them. “Nothing. I‘m just happy.” He’s not the only one, he thinks, when Aominechi’s laughter drifts over, interspersed with Kagamicchi’s embarrassed but fond mutterings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shintarou stops short in the doorframe when he sees the scene in front of him. He has an important message from one of their oversea allys, to be relayed to Akashi’s hands as of immediately, but at the sight he thinks it might as well wait some more.

Akashi had been obviously busy at work, judging by the strewn around paperwork, but in the middle of it he must have fallen asleep. Shintarou had been quite worried about Akashi’s sleeping habits and his tendency to delegate working hours into the late hours to get as much done as possible. At least it seems Kuroko has had similar concerns, considering how closely they are wrapped together.

Shintarou very quietly enters and picks up the scattered documents. He then roots through Akashi’s wardrobe to unearth a blanket to drape over the two of them. He takes the files with him when he leaves. It is time Akashi fully understands just how many capable hands he has at his disposal. He really ought to take better care of his health.

Decidedly, Shintarou does not smile when he quietly closes the door behind him. He diligently ignores Takao’s teasing remark when he calls him out on it moments later. Takao is exceptionally skilled and that is the only reason Shintarou lets him get away with as much as he does.

That’s really all there is to it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re here again?” Kae-chin smacks his hand away from her cream puffs. “They’re not for you.”

“I need to make sure they’re not poisoned for Aka-chin.” Atsushi says undeterred.

This time Kae-chin whacks him with a wooden spoon. “Now you insult my baking. I had a tray reserved for you but I guess I have to find someone who’s more grateful than you.”

“Kae-chin is kidding?” Atsushi is just the tiniest bit in doubt; therefore he tacks a question mark at the end of his sentence. He’s fairly confident he could get away with sneaking one or two puffs when Kae-chin isn’t looking, but to miss out on an entire tray. His mind refuses to process the possibility.

Kae-chin is frowning, but her mouth threatens to quirk into a smile. “No one quite appreciates my puffs like you do.” She says eventually and waves him over. Atsushi thinks of snatching a cream puff either way, but decides he better not risk it. “I experimented with a few new ingredients and want to have your opinion.” She says sternly before handing him a tray tightly filled with cream puffs.

She doesn’t need to tell him twice. The first puff tastes like lemon, but there’s a hint of something else. Honey maybe. Kaede had made lemon cream puffs before, but the addition of honey adds a different note of sweetness. Atsushi approves.

He doesn’t like the cinnamon puffs as they are a tiny bit too spicy for him, but that could be remedied with the addition of more sugar. Basically, everything could be remedied with more sugar. Kae-chin has yet to concede that point though.

Atsushi snubs the carrot cream puffs after one bite. Carrot cake may have some merits, but cream puffs? He’s not going to wrap his head around that one.

“What’s wrong?” Kae-chin asks after he has taken a bite from the last batch of flavors. Atsushi had complained quite a lot about the carrot - ruining a perfectly good batch of cream puffs with vegetables is a no go - but now he has fallen silent.

“Vanilla.” Atsushi says in way of explanation.

Kae-chin rolls her eyes. “I’m glad your taste buds didn’t suffer too badly.”

“Are they for Kuro-chin?” Atsushi puts the cream puff back on the tray. It sits there, half-eaten and that’s even worse. Atsushi finishes it with one bite.

“Kuroko-sama?” Kae-chin pauses in her efforts to pack away the other cream puffs. “What does his Highness have to do with it?”

Kuro-chin has a smile like a little bird, just a flutter and barely there, but Atsushi quite likes it. He always does it when Atsushi brings him sweets. Kuro-chin also makes an effort to eat some of the sweets in front of him. Atsushi can’t even be mad that he ultimately ends up sharing the rest with Kaga-chin or sometimes Mine-chin.

“Kuro-chin’ll like them.” Atsushi takes one of the boxes Kae-chin uses to store the cream puffs and fills it with his share of vanilla flavored puffs. Aka-chin also smiles when he sees Kuro-chin’s soft side, so giving the puffs away is a sure win, isn’t it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Considering everything that happened, I _am_ quite surprised by the outcome.” Nakajima taps her finger thoughtfully against her chin. The area around her eyes crinkles into a smile, but when she finally makes her next move on the shogi board, it’s as precise and deadly as all of them have been.

Satsuki sighs. “I surrender.” She mutters darkly and goes to collect her pieces from Nakajima’s graveyard.

“I know.” Nakajima smiles. “Again?”

Satsuki purses her lips. There’s no way she would win against Nakajima in shogi anytime soon, but if she declines a rematch, Nakajima will undoubtedly challenge her to a round of karuta. Which she will also lose, along with having to put strain on her back and knees. Besides, Satsuki feels she is only a breath away from gaining that edge she is missing to finally score a win against Nakajima. She’d never quite understood the drive people like Ki-chan or Dai-chan had to win, but now she gets it. Kind of.

“Alright.” Satsuki claps her hands together. She can do this.

“You have yet to share your thoughts.” Nakajima reminds once she has taken Satsuki’s first piece.

Satsuki hums. She takes time to contemplate her next move before replying. “With all the data on the table it wasn’t surprising. But from a momentary point of view, it quite was.” Satsuki stares at the board. Putting her Silver General there wasn’t quite the good idea she thought it was. But now it’s too late.

Nakajima takes her Bishop in the next move and how did that even happen?

“Nothing is surprising with all the data available.” Nakajima reprimands. “The key is to use incomplete data. Of course, the more you know the easier it is to deduce the truth, but you seldom have the luxury of that. And not to forget that unpredictable things may always happen, even with all available data at your hands.”

“But that is why we focus on analyzing people instead of fixed data points.” Satsuki interjects, taking the first enemy piece. It’s a pawn, but every piece has its value, Nakajima once said. A lesson, Satsuki thinks somewhat sourly, the boys have taken their dear time to learn. It’s just as well. They may have lost a lot on the way, but they’ve also gained a lot.

“True.” Nakajima tilts her head. Satsuki hides her joy when Nakajima walks right into the trap she has set. The feeling is short lived however, as Nakajima takes her Rook a moment later with one of her own traps. “But as you can see, analyzing a person is not always enough.”

Satsuki pouts but then takes a drink from her cup of tea. Next to the cups waits a plate with various goods from the kitchen, courtesy of Kaede. Even if she will walk out of their meeting without a single win under her belt, it doesn’t matter. All the things Nakajima has taught her and keeps teaching her, have allowed her to take the place she inhabits now.

Satsuki thinks of the stupid smile on Dai-chan’s face when he thinks no one is seeing him staring at Kagamin. That equally dumb smile on Kagamin’s face when he thinks he’s sneaky about ogling Dai-chan.

Seriously, all those boys are idiots and would pretty much be lost without her at their sides. At least, that’s how it used to be. But now even Akashi seems to have grown up.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Nakajima says into the soft silence of her thoughts. “They’ve found their place in life or at least a rough idea of where they want to be. That doesn’t mean they no longer need you.”

“I wasn’t…” Satsuki trails off and then smiles. “It will be a relief actually to no longer have to worry about Dai-chan.” She says. “Well, I doubt I can stop anytime soon. But he’ll be fine with Kagamin. Ki-chan also has settled down. And Tetsu-kun can look after Akashi-sama. At this rate there is no one else I have to be worried about. Midorin and Mukkun never quite needed my help to begin with.”

Nakajima pats her hand and then proceeds to make another move that effectively leaves her king defenseless.

Satsuki smiles through the tears and springs her final trap to take Nakajima’s king in her last move.

“It’s good that I have found other hobbies.” She says and rubs away the tears. Part of her is sad of course, but another part is also exhilarated at the new prospects that have opened up. The road ahead of her is open and full of possibilities.

Even so, three days later Dai-chan shows up in the middle of her attempt to delegate an important banquet, scuffing his shoes and quite obviously in need of help but unwilling to ask for it. The reason for that, it turns out, is Dai-chan’s tendency to put his foot in his mouth and what appears to be a very pissed off Kagamin who refuses to speak a single word to Dai-chan.

Satsuki waves over one of her attendants, hands her the list of things that need to be done, leaves a few well placed instructions and drags Dai-chan off to reconcile him with Kagamin.

Even If some things are different, some things just never change.


	23. Epilogue~ Blue Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Today's fun fact:** Akashi and Kuroko are god damn dorks and I love them way too much.

**7 years later**

Tetsuya watches with undiluted pride as his niece disarms another soldier and brings him to heel. The man had held back obviously, but not enough to make it easy for Shizuka. Shizuka puffs out her chest and points her wooden training sword at the kneeling soldier, declaring her victory in a loud booming voice she must have picked up from Kagami. The man hides a smile and acts the morose loser.

“Okay that’s enough for today.” Kasamatsu declares and steps forward. The soldier picks himself up and ruffles Shizuka’s hair in passing. Normally, Shizuka would glare at the soldier for daring to disturb her the Imperial mess that is her hair, but she’s too busy pouting at Kasamatsu in an attempt to woo him into letting her continue. This one she has undoubtedly from Kise. And just like Kise’s many attempts, it doesn’t work. Kasamatsu is way too used to Kise’s frequent whining and charming and generally involved attempts at getting his way to be swayed by Shizuka’s puppy eyes.

When pity proves to be ineffectual, Shizuka puffs out her chest again, puts her hands on her hips and says in her most commanding voice: “I order you to spar with me Kasamatsu Yukio.” Kasamatsu, entirely unaffected, smiles and adds to the mess of Shizuka’s hair with another affectionate ruffle.

“Just how much of that does she get from you?”

Tetsuya had been so absorbed in Shizuka’s performance that he almost startles when Seijuro suddenly speaks up next to him. He had completely missed his approach. “She evidently gets it from you.” Tetsuya says deadpan, giving Seijuro a pointed look.

Seijuro raises an eyebrow, but he’s smiling and then leans in for a quick kiss. “I would have gotten him to obey.” He says casually and entirely serious.

“Of course you would,” says Tetsuya and hides his smile. Seijuro sees right through him despite his best efforts.

Shizuka had given up her protest in the meantime, content to bug Kasamatsu with questions about this and that - questions he acts all gruff about answering, but secretly enjoys very much. Kasamatsu wouldn’t put up with so many of Shizuka’s antics if he didn’t genuinely like her. Truth is, the entire barracks adore Shizuka.

Tetsuya leans into Seijuro as he watches his niece and adopted daughter in a heated discussion about the merits of gunpowder based firearms versus conventional weaponry. It’s been a rather important topic in council discussions lately, and Shizuka had insisted upon coming to the capital to at least attend one court meeting per week. When Tetsuya had told her that she wasn’t expected to pick up her duties this early and that both he and Seijuro were of likewise opinion that she should indulge in her childhood for as long as she could, she had said something Tetsuya doubts he’ll ever forget.

_I know why I was born. I had no purpose other than to die for Ryou-nii. Now that I have one, I want to embrace it to the fullest. I want to become Empress and rule our country and I want to be called the best thing to ever happen to this country and its people. I want to make sure that no more children have to die for the wellbeing of their families._

Tetsuya feels the familiar prick of tears when he thinks back to it. In that moment, he had been sure as he had never been before that it had been worth it. All the pain and struggles, he would endure all of it again, if it would lead to this very moment.

“Now run along. Your fathers are waiting.” Kasamatsu says eventually and shoos Shizuka away.

Shizuka’s face lights up when she sees them, or rather Seijuro, as she had known of Tetsuya’s presence the whole time. “Sei-tan.” She squeals and flings herself into his arms. Seijuro has to let go of Tetsuya to catch her, but when he does he whirls her around in the air, much to her delight.

Despite her words and the burden on her shoulders, she is still only eleven years old.

“Now, don’t be rude and greet you father.” Seijuro chides with a gentle voice and puts her down in front of them.

“Hiya daddy.” She says with a wide grin and hugs Tetsuya.

Seijuro chuckles and meets Tetsuya’s eyes over her head. The expression in his eyes is warm and fond and so full of love it still makes Tetsuya’s heart stumble after all these years.

“Is he making googly eyes again?” Shizuka asks against his chest.

“As a matter of fact, he is.” Tetsuya says softly and runs a hand through his daughter’s hair, trying in vain to smooth the wild strands of her hair. He only has bed head when he wakes up, Shizuka has it the whole day.

She looks up at him and wrinkles her nose. “Gross.”

Seijuro clicks his tongue. “Shizuka dear. I feel there is a dire need to put things into perspective for you. If you thought me making loving eyes at your father is reason for complaint, how about this?” And with that he pulls Tetsuya into a deep and very intense kiss.

Shizuka makes an attempt at grossed out indignation, but eventually her amusement wins out. “You look so weird.” She says, holding her belly with muffled laughter. “Sei-tan is eating daddy’s face.”

Tetsuya makes to jab Seijuro in the ribs when he deems the kiss has dragged on for too long. Seijuro easily evades him, but has to break the kiss in the process.

“We have disturbed the guards’ training long enough.” Tetsuya declares, valiantly ignoring the whistles and cheers from the now rather sizable crowd. He had gotten used to Seijuro’s open affections - and in its own way the palace had too - but he still feels rather exposed. At least he no longer blushes. “We should return inside.”

“Noooo.” Shizuka grabs Tetsuya’s hand and tugs. “Yuki-tan told me you and Sei-tan were super strong and no one has beaten you ever. Not even Dai-tan.” Her eyes shine in that bright light that always spells trouble, as she undoubtedly has latched on to another outrageous idea.

“Indeed.” Seijuro says with thinly veiled amusement. “As a matter of fact, I only beat your father once, although that was hardly a representable duel.” There is a glitter now in Seijuro’s eyes as well. Tetsuya has an inkling where this is going. “Incidentally, we have yet to determine who is stronger.”

“Seijuro-“ He starts but kind of can’t find it in him to continue. He had kept up his daily workout routine to keep his body in shape, but had refused all challenges ever since Shizuka had arrived, except for his regular practice matches with Kagami. He knows Aomine and Kise both are itching to test their strength against him again, but are at least in so far curbed that they had yet to overcome Kagami.

”How about it, Tetsuya?” Seijuro asks softly over the excited squeals of Shizuka, who has taken it upon herself to alert everyone - who had all been listening anyway and therefore were pretty much privy to the proceedings - of the impending match.

“There is no point,” Tetsuya tries half heartedly. “I don’t need to know who’s stronger.”

“There doesn’t need to be one.” Seijuro lifts a hand and gently rests it on Tetsuya’s cheek. “I don’t care if you are stronger or I am. That’s not what this is about.”

“What is it about then?” Tetsuya’s voice comes out shakier than he would have liked. But he is weak towards that particular tone of voice of Seijuro’s.

“There is a saying that you can’t understand a person until you have faced them in battle.”

Tetsuya sighs exasperatedly. He should take offense to that statement, simply because he’s bared more than his soul to Seijuro already. “Seijuro just wants to show off.” He concludes. Seijuro has the decency to look guilty. “Alright. But only so I can put you in your place.”

Seijuro’s eyes take on an all too familiar glint. “How about you repeat that in our bedroom?” This time he has the good graces not to dodge Tetsuya’s jab to his ribs.

Tetsuya decides to channel a bit of Aomine. He takes a step back, draws himself up to his full height - as much good as that does him in company of people who are all taller than him - and says, loud and clearly: “I will make you eat those words.”

Seijuro’s lips curl into a smirk. “You better wash your neck, because I will make you eat dust.” His eyes are twinkling, but Seijuro keeps his expression taunting.

Tetsuya thinks he understands now why Aomine acts the way he does. It feels remarkably good to not mind his manners for once.

Tetsuya crosses his arms in front of him. “I’d like to see you try.”

“You would, wouldn’t you? Alright. Kasamatsu, fetch our swords. It is time I teach Tetsuya a lesson.”

“Please don’t kill each other.” Kasamatsu says with a longsuffering sigh but goes to do what he’s told.

“Do you require a change of clothes?” Seijuro asks with clear amusement. Tetsuya is wearing a loose fitting outfit, ideal for leisure but not exactly useful for combat, with all the flowing fabric around his legs. Seijuro is better equipped, with his usual set of comfortable pants and shirt.

But Tetsuya has learned to incorporate the worst of circumstances. “That won’t be necessary.” He says coolly. He steps into the cleared space in the training yard and starts stretching. Seijuro follows suit.

Shizuka has retreated to the sidelines with Kasamatsu and is discussing the odds. A rather sizable crowd has gathered around them and it doesn’t take long before the first bets are placed. Kagami looks somewhat concerned, but Aomine who hangs off his shoulders as per usual, seems rather excited. Kise next to them is bouncing on his feet, chewing an ear off from Midorima who has the misfortune to stand next to him. Even Murasakibara has made his way to the training yard to watch.

Imayoshi has come with Sakurai in tow who looks rather unhappy to be pulled from his work. Ogiwara is excitedly waving at him, next to a frowning Momoi who seems torn between excitement and worry. Tetsuya feels a thread of apprehension but valiantly shoves it aside. It doesn’t matter how many people watch.

Seijuro finishes his warm up first and goes to fetch his sword from Kasamatsu. It’s the same katana he has used the first time and Tetsuya can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Don’t think I’m giving you a handicap.” Seijuro says with a smile. “If anything, I’m making it much harder for Tetsuya.”

“That remains to be seen.” Tetsuya says gravely and retrieves his own weapon. Seijuro had gifted it to him upon their one year anniversary. It is closer to a sword than a dagger, but the blade is slim and slightly curved and its weight balances easily in his hands.

“Alright, take your positions.” Kasamatsu calls and steps forward. The crowd falls silent. Tetsuya shifts on his feet until he’s in a slightly crouched position. Seijuro keeps his back straight, but the tension belies his focus.

“Please don’t kill each other.” Kasamatsu mutters and some of the crowd laughs. “Ready?” He asks. Tetsuya exhales and nods. Seijuro opposite him does the same.

“Begin.” Kasamatsu shouts. Behind him, the crowd collectively holds their breath.

Tetsuya remembers vividly the last time he fought Seijuro in a duel, even though seven years had passed since then. It had been a flash then, quick and brutal.

It is no different now. Tetsuya can’t say who moves first. All he knows is that Seijuro is a blur of red and Tetsuya is pivoting on his leg to deflect a strike so fast his eyes can’t see it. But his instincts have been honed by the best and so Seijuro’s strike ends in air instead of his side.

Seijuro recovers fast, but so does Tetsuya. This time Seijuro has to deflect a blow from Tetsuya and while he manages that just fine, he almost misses Tetsuya’s left hand that is coming for his wrist. He twists his arm in the last moment and Tetsuya’s jab glances off his skin ineffectively. He follows up quickly, but Tetsuya has already retreated to a safe distance.

They eye each other for a moment. The crowd is completely quiet, not a single sound can be heard. The only sign of the exertion they just went through is in the faint shimmer of sweat on Seijuro’s forehead and likely on his own.

“Is that all, my dear Tetsuya?” Seijuro asks. “Has palace life made you soft?”

Tetsuya shifts his stance. He balances his weight on one leg while poising the other on the ground to give him the speed he needs. “How about you find out.” He is moving before he has finished his sentence, propelling himself forwards with his relaxed leg. Seijuro’s eyes widen for a fracture of a moment, before he drops his entire body weight to the side to evade Tetsuya’s hit.

It’s a good move, but Tetsuya had seen it coming. He digs his toes into the ground, using the momentum of his upper body to spin himself around and into Seijuro’s space, blocking the way for Seijuro’s own sword in the process. He slashes his blade upwards and only a graceful drop to the ground saves Seijuro from a nasty scar. He drops into a roll and jumps to his feet, launching an attack out of the motion. Tetsuya moves right into the attack, bringing up his left hand to block Seijuro’s attacking arm. At the same time he brings up his blade for a strike to Seijuro’s neck. Seijuro shifts at the last moment, but not to evade Tetsuya’s attack.

Tetsuya stops his motion a mere millimeter away from Seijuro’s pulse point. At the same time, Seijuro has flipped the blade in his hand, utilizing the force of Tetsuya’s deflect to aim his blade straight at Tetsuya’s exposed side. Neither of them moves. The crowd is locked in tense silence.

“Well fought.” Seijuro says with a genuine smile. Tetsuya detects a hint of pride in his eyes.

“You too.” He replies and then moves back in a smooth motion. Seijuro mirrors him perfectly. They bow in unison, paying the respect they most certainly owe to each other.

“That was… a draw?” Kasamatsu says, somewhat unsure. The audience breaks into mutters and heated discussions.

“That was amazing.” Shizuka exclaims and dashes forward, but is held back by a quick thinking Momoi.

“Let them put away their weapons.” She placates when Shizuka is about to utter her indignant response.

Tetsuya allows one of the guards to take the blade from his hand. He hadn’t felt it during the match, but now he realizes how drained he is. He’d never had much stamina and the condition only seems to worsen with age.

They endure a bit of clamor, with many of the soldiers offering their respect. Aomine slaps Tetsuya on the back heartily, only to be scolded by Kagami who, of course, has already noticed Tetsuya’s exhaustion. Shizuka is bouncing and recounting the fight in great detail to everyone who wants to listen and it doesn’t take long before she has infected Kise with her excitement. It is at that point that Seijuro decides it is time for everyone to return their duties and that is that.

It is later in the privacy of their chambers, after the day’s chores have been done, that they get the time to settle down and talk.

Tetsuya is stretched out on the sofa, legs propped up in Seijuro’s lap. He’s rubbing the pad of his thumbs into the soles of Tetsuya’s feet and he could just about die from the bliss of it.

“You were holding back, weren’t you?” Seijuro says after a while. He doesn’t look up from Tetsuya’s feet and it seems almost as if he had made nothing more impactful than a comment about the weather.

“What makes you think that?” Tetsuya asks softly.

“I have seen Tetsuya fight.” Akashi runs a hand along Tetsuya’s leg. “When he is serious, no one can beat him.”

“Kagami-kun beats me regularly.” Tetsuya points out.

Seijuro hums and gently lifts Tetsuya’s leg to press a kiss against his shin. “I imagine Kagami is very well one of those people that are too stubborn to lose.”

Tetsuya raises an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one?”

Seijuro looks up from the path he has kissed down Tetsuya’s legs. He’s bent over for better reach and it allows him to do that very unfair thing where he peeks out from under his lashes - complete with an obscuring fringe of red hair. As if he didn’t already knew where this is heading, from the fact Seijuro is paying rapt attention to his legs. “Naturally.” He says with a smirk and goes back to kissing.

Tetsuya curls his toes. “This is the most convoluted ploy at seduction I have ever witnessed.”

“I did not challenge you to seduce you, although it is an opportune side effect.”

“Why did you challenge me then?”

Seijuro looks up again, this time completely. “Because I love you. And because I know how much you were holding yourself back.”

“That’s not-“ _true_ , he wants to say. But he finds - much to his surprise - he can’t quite refute the statement.

“Daiki is not the only one with a competitive streak.” Seijuro observes amusedly. His thumb is rubbing in the space between Tetsuya’s toes and he is most definitely leading up to something.

“I have an image to uphold.” Tetsuya says testily and wriggles his toes in retaliation.

“Since when do you care about image?” Seijuro, of course, is not the least bit thwarted by Tetsuya’s resistance.

“Since my niece has been declared heir to the throne.”

“You mean your daughter.” Seijuro reminds him and then quickly licks a stripe along the pad of his big toe. Tetsuya shudders. “I commend your concern, but you should realize that little you do could affect Shizuka’s reputation negatively.”

“If this is building up to a joke about my lack of presence…” Tetsuya attempts a dark tone, but he doesn’t quite manage with Seijuro now enthusiastically sucking on his toes, He’s gotten somewhat better at controlling his reactions, but he still is woefully weak at that particular part of his body.

“I would never dare.” Seijuro breathes over the skin he just wetted. This time Tetsuya’s shudder is accompanied by a moan. There is a mischievous twinkle in Seijuro’s eyes and he blows over the skin a second time. He shifts then, bringing them closer together so he can look in Tetsuya’s eyes. The playfulness is all gone now. “I am building up to the reminder that you are my beloved consort.” Seijuro rests a hand on Tetsuya’s face. His other keeps rubbing circles on Tetsuya’s sole to prevent his foot from getting cold. “No one would think any less of you for pursuing your passions.”

“Maybe I was just afraid what Shizuka would think if she knew this side of me.”

“What could she ever think than that you are brilliant?” Seijuro rubs his thumb on the space under Tetsuya’s eyelid. His smile is warm and loving. “It was this strength that saved her life.”

Tetsuya finally gives in and smiles. “Your concern is most touching. But I don’t miss it as much as you think I do. If I gave in to every challenge thrown my way, I would barely find time to rest, let alone spend time with Seijuro-kun. Although it is nice to test my strength every now and then. I simply prefer to spend my time with you rather than torn between Kise-kun’s and Aomine-kun’s attempts at outdoing each other.”

Seijuro’s smile makes his eyes twinkle. “You played me.” He says with no small amount of amusement.

“I would never dare.” Tetsuya says with wide eyed innocence. He pokes the toe of his neglected foot in Seijuro’s thigh. “Now get back to work.”

Seijuro breaks out into soft laughter. “As you wish your majesty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it people. The end of this monstrosity that has cost me years of my life. I said most of it in last chapter, but it never hurts to repeat some stuff. Thanks to all of you who read and supported this fic, through all the highs and lows the drama and the fluff. I apologize for all the cliffhangers in which people were nearly dying, there were way too many of those. Okay, I am kidding. Those cliffhangers were the most fun because they freaked everyone out. And while we're at it, thank you for your enthusiasm, for the rants and tears in the comments, the joy and excitement. It means a lot to me to read all those words you people take the time to write down.
> 
> I have two larger projects in the making, but I can't say when I'm going to start posting. That depends on how well writing goes. In the meantime, you are all welcome to my tumblr where I rant and occasionally post small fics and stuff. The link should be in my profile.
> 
> I'm out of words.
> 
> It was awesome, thanks for joining me on this journey. See you on my next fic.  
> ~Siana

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback of any sorts would be appreciated.


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